


To Heal and Obey

by QueenOfTheDreamers (QueenOfDreamers)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1970s, Alternate Universe, Bellamort, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Healing, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Magical Medicine, Nurses, Poison, Poisoning, Possessive Tom Riddle, Sane Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23435476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfDreamers/pseuds/QueenOfTheDreamers
Summary: 1970. Bellatrix is working as a Mediwitch at St Mungo's when a new patient is admitted. It's Tom Riddle, who's inhaled the fumes of a poison. He hears everything she says to him in his coma, and when he awakens, he enlists the assistance of this interesting young witch to help him get out of trouble with the Ministry of Magic. The two grow ever closer, day by day... until the master ensnares the servant.
Relationships: Abraxas Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Avery Jr. (Harry Potter)/Original Character(s), Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Tom Riddle, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 78
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

_St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries_

_11 July 1970_

"Bellatrix, Sanke Howden needs her dose of Skele-Gro."

"Yes, Madam Carte." Bellatrix straightened her Mediwitch's smock and tugged at her black woolen skirts. She cleared her throat and dabbed her fingers at the matron's hat that she'd tucked into her normally-wild curls, which had been pulled into a bun. She was only a month into her work as a Mediwitch at St Mungo's, still in training. She had been an outstanding Potions and Herbology pupil at Hogwarts, and she'd been advised by Professor Slughorn that she should pursue a career in medicine. She'd been a troublemaker at school, and Professor Slughorn thought that a healing career would put Bellatrix on the right path.

Bellatrix had wanted to go to Healers' School, but her parents had insisted that she would need to find a husband and settle down, that any job as a Mediwitch would be temporary and that soon enough she'd be a good Pureblood wife and mother. Bellatrix had sent angry letters from Hogwarts telling her parents that she wanted nothing more than to work, and they'd finally agreed to keep her inheritance intact if she worked as a Mediwitch at St Mungo's _until she found a husband._

"Bellatrix! That Skele-Gro!"

Bellatrix jolted and dashed over to the bedside of Sanke Howden, an old witch suffering from a magical form of bone degeneration. She was in pain, Bellatrix knew; her joints ached and throbbed when she moved and walked. She was here for a five-day course of Skele-Gro to heal her bones. Of course, regrowing bones was just as painful as not having bone density in the first place, and these days in hospital had turned Sanke Howden into a cantankerous witch.

"Mrs Howden," chirped Bellatrix with false cheer as she neared the woman's bed on the third floor. "Time for your Skele-Gro!"

"Oh, damn it." Mrs Howden squirmed beneath her blanket and kicked her foot roughly.

"Seems like you're moving better," Bellatrix noted, raising her brows. "Just a few more doses."

"Right." Mrs Howden opened her mouth and folded her hands over her stomach. Bellatrix smirked and uncorked the bottle of Skele-Gro on the table beside Mrs Howden's bed. She Scoured the spoon that was lying on the table, and she cleared her throat as she poured the healing potion into the spoon. She brought it to Mrs Howden's mouth, and the old woman winced and made a noise of disgust as she swallowed.

"You'll continue to improve," Bellatrix told Mrs Howden. "Soon enough you'll be just fine."

"Bellatrix! New admission in Bed Five," called Madam Carte from behind Bellatrix. She whirled around and then quickly flashed a farewell smile to Mrs Howden.

"Do let me know if you need anything, Mrs Howden," Bellatrix said. "Dinner will be up in fifteen minutes."

She walked away from Mrs Howden's bed and hurried toward Bed Five, which was hidden behind pale blue curtains. There was a Healer at the foot of the bed, murmuring quietly to the patient. Bellatrix peered around the curtains and curiously examined the wizard lying on his back with his eyes shut.

"Ah. Miss Black. Your duties on shift will be shifted full-time to caring for this patient," said Healer Comstock, and Bellatrix frowned. Usually a Mediwitch was only assigned full-time to a patient if their condition was very grave. Bellatrix studied the man's face and then gasped softly. She recognised this wizard. He was a friend of her father's, someone Cygnus Black III had known in school. This was Tom Riddle.

"Mr Tom Riddle," said Healer Comstock, "was brewing a potion - specifically, a poison - and inhaled its fumes on accident. He has been rendered unconscious, and it is unknown for how long he was in this state before his friend Rickard Avery found him."

"Will you wake him?" Bellatrix asked Healer Comstock. The Healer shook his head and said,

"Emergency response tried Invigoration Draught and other potions to rouse him. _Rennervate_ did nothing. He is in a magical coma. We must provide him with comfort and nutrition until he wakes on his own. If after a month, he's still unconscious, we will move him into Janus Thickey."

Bellatrix stared at Mr Riddle and noticed the pale scars criss-crossing his chipped and jagged face. His chin and cheekbones jutted roughly forward, and there were grey threads in his black wavy hair. He looked rugged and prematurely aged for a school friend of Bellatrix's father.

"I want you to keep him clean, use nutritive potions - intravenously, of course - and watch him to see if he wakes," Healer Comstock told Bellatrix. "This is a… very high-priority patient."

He turned and walked away then, and Bellatrix was left alone with the sleeping Mr Riddle. She gulped and remembered what her father had told her about Tom Riddle. The man had gone to the Continent and had learnt extraordinary Dark Arts, or so Cygnus Black III said. Mr Riddle had aspirations for wizarding Britain, Cygnus Black said.

Bellatrix prepared an intravenous line so that she could get fluids and food into Mr Riddle. She didn't have loads of experience placing lines into patients, but she'd been put in charge of Mr Riddle, and she was determined to do right by him. She assembled her kit on the table beside his bed and Scoured her hands. She pulled at Mr Riddle's arm until it was straight, and she examined the inside of his elbow. There was a good vein there, she could see. She touched at it, feeling his warm skin pulsing beneath her fingertips. She Scoured the area, chose her gauge, and murmured,

"Just a little pinch, Mr Riddle."

Mr Riddle didn't move at all when Bellatrix poked the needle into his flesh. She watched for the hint of blood indicating she'd hit the vein directly, and she smirked a little to herself as she realised she'd done it right. She hung a bag of Ellen Summers' Nutritive Fluid on the hook beside Tom Riddle's bed and connected it to his intravenous line. She watched as the pale yellow liquid, almost buttery in appearance, worked its way into the vein. Still, Mr Riddle did not move. Bellatrix sighed and cleaned up her mess from placing the line, and then she pulled up a chair beside his bed.

"What shall we talk about, Mr Riddle?" Bellatrix asked quietly. She stared at him and pursed her lips as he just lay there in silent stillness. "What potion were you making when you inhaled the fumes? They said it was a poison. My father said you're very intelligent. Why weren't you more careful?"

Still she got no reply.

The next four days were all the same. Bellatrix came in in the morning, placed a new bag of nutritive liquid in Mr Riddle's line, cleaned him up, drained his bladder and emptied his insides with spellwork, and massaged his muscles to keep them from atrophy. Then she sat beside him and mindlessly told him about what school had been like, about her sisters, about her parents.

"I got three weeks of detention in my sixth year because I Hexed Tia Rowle. It was all over an illicit bottle of firewhisky; she tried to get me in trouble for it, and… anyway. I got two weeks for Hexing Tia and a week for the firewhisky. And then my father and Mr Rowle got into an argument, and our mothers didn't speak at social events for six months."

"I had a boyfriend at Hogwarts. Titus Malfoy. I'm sure you know him; his father is Abraxas, and his younger brother is Lucius? Anyway, Titus cheated on me with this Hufflepuff girl, and now they're going to get married. So I suppose that's good for him."

There was never any reply. Mr Riddle just lay, silent and still, his nutritive liquid dripping into his vein.

"My mum says Andromeda's going to get herself disowned," Bellatrix said on the fifth day of Mr Riddle's coma. She studied a fingernail and looked around before saying in a hushed voice, "Andy's got herself a Mudblood boyfriend, you see, and my parents just won't stand for that. So. What do you think of Mudbloods, Mr Riddle?"

She got no answer from him. She sighed and whispered gently,

"You must wake, Mr Riddle, or they'll move you to the Janus Thickey Ward, and you don't want that. None of us wants that. My father says you were meant for greatness."

Suddenly Mr Riddle's eyes fluttered a little, but he fell back unconscious quickly. Bellatrix scowled and rose from her chair, walking over to where he lay. She bent down and shook his shoulder somewhat roughly.

"Mr Riddle," she said loudly. "Wake up, Mr Riddle."

"I think," croaked his voice through dry lips, "that you… that… I think…"

"Mr Riddle!" cried Bellatrix. She snatched at the chest of his pyjamas and snared her fingers through his hair, surprised at herself for grabbing him so roughly. "Wake up!"

Mr Riddle's eyes opened slowly, and Bellatrix released him, staggering backwards.

"Bellatrix Black," muttered Mr Riddle, staring at the ceiling. "What an intriguing young witch you are."

"Healer Comstock!" Bellatrix yelled, dashing away from Mr Riddle's bedside. "Healer Comstock, Mr Riddle is -"

She ran smack into the Healer, who stared down at her and narrowed his eyes.

"Miss Black."

"M-Mr Riddle is awake, sir," Bellatrix stammered. She followed Healer Comstock then, who wordlessly stalked back to Bed Five. When Bellatrix reached the bed, Mr Riddle was sitting up, examining the intravenous line in his arm. He stared at Bellatrix as Healer Comstock said,

"Mr Riddle! You're at St Mungo's."

"I know." Mr Riddle nodded. "I've been kept company by a very interesting Mediwitch for the last few days."

"You could hear me?" Bellatrix's eyes went round, and her cheeks seared with embarrassment. She'd spilled her soul to Mr Riddle over the last five days. She couldn't believe that he had understood a single word of what she'd said, much less that he'd been listening the entire time.

"Oh, yes," Mr Riddle rasped. "I heard you, Miss Black."

Bellatrix touched her fingertips to her mouth and closed her eyes. Healer Comstock snapped,

"Have you been saying inappropriate things to unconscious patients, Miss Black?"

"On the contrary, Healer Comstock," said Mr Riddle, "she has been a most attentive Mediwitch. May I recommend a promotion for this young woman?"

"First thing's first; I need to examine you now that you're awake." Healer Comstock took out his wand. " _Lumos._ Look at the light, Mr Riddle."

For the next few minutes, Healer Comstock checked Mr Riddle's eyes, hearing, taste and smell, and sense of touch. He used his wand to amplify Mr Riddle's heart and breathing sounds. After a while, Healer Comstock tucked his wand away and asked starkly,

"Why were you brewing Suffocation Draught? That's what the Aurors found in your home."

"I confess to having an infestation of Flobberworms in my garden," Mr Riddle said in a slick voice, "and I thought I would put the Suffocation Draught on the plants they were eating. To poison them, you know."

Healer Comstock shook his head in confusion and scowled. "There are far better ways to fix a Flobberworm infestation than to suffocate them with a dangerous poison, Mr Riddle. The Aurors are going to want to talk to you about this now that you're awake. I'm sure they'll investigate this Flobberworm infestation of yours."

Mr Riddle pinched his lips and nodded. "Hmm. Healer Comstock, I have a… personal need… that requires the skilled attentions of a Mediwitch. Could you give me a moment with Miss Black?"

Healer Comstock looked sceptical, but he nodded and turned to walk away as he said, "I'll let the Ministry know you're awake."

Once Healer Comstock had gone, Bellatrix stepped up alongside Mr Riddle's bed and whispered, "How may I assist you, Mr Riddle?"

He eyed her for a long moment, and she felt a pulse in her mind. Suddenly she saw memories flooding her consciousness, one after the other like someone was flicking through the repository of everything she'd done. She saw herself plucking wings off a fly. She saw herself trip a Ravenclaw girl in the corridor at Hogwarts. She saw herself screaming at Andromeda about her Mudblood boyfriend. She licked her lips and stared back at Mr Riddle, who murmured,

"I need you to help me handle these Aurors, Miss Black. And then I need you to help me get out of this hospital."

Bellatrix nodded firmly and said, "Yes, sir."

**Author's Note: Dipping my toe back into the waters of writing, in the ship I love above all others. I'm in Isolation, like most of us, and I should be able to update daily. I hope you'll follow along, and I'd really appreciate any feedback.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Muggles?"

Bellatrix hissed the word as she leaned in close to Mr Riddle. He smelled of spearmint and clean linen, since she'd cleaned him up with spells. He turned toward her and rubbed at the beard that Bellatrix had kept neat and trimmed during his hospitalisation.

"The Suffocation Draught was intended to be used on the Muggle Underground," whispered Mr Riddle. "I would, of course, shield myself magically. I underestimated the fumes whilst brewing; I had an Invisible Mask on, but I still went into a coma."

"Wait." Bellatrix felt her eyes go wide. "You were planning an attack on Muggles?"

"I have very strong feelings about those without magic." Mr Riddle narrowed his eyes. "Do you find my plans repulsive, Miss Black? Are you going to go running to the Ministry to get me arrested?"

"No." She gulped. "I'm going to plant Flobberworms in your garden so they think you really did have an infestation. That's what I'm going to do."

He smirked at her and nodded. "You're a very good Mediwitch."

"I have to go." Bellatrix flicked her eyes up and down his form, her gaze settling on the spot in his arm where she'd placed his line. "Keep getting your nutrition through your arm for now; I'll remove the line and get you food by mouth when I come back. I have to go quickly if I'm to get to Diagon Alley and handle all of this. Oh! But I don't know where you live."

Suddenly Mr Riddle's face reddened. He cleared his throat roughly and said, "I live in a modest place. Very modest. 21 Bassett Gardens, Isleworth."

"21 Bassett Gardens, Isleworth," Bellatrix nodded. She licked her lips and said, "I'm going to purchase a Flobberworm and multiply it, spreading them throughout your garden, Mr Riddle. And then I'll come back here."

He blinked and smiled a little. "What a very fine witch you are, Miss Black. I think you and I could be good friends."

"Could we?" She grinned. "All right. I'll be back soon."

He nodded and reached for her hand. She was shocked when he squeezed at her fingers a little and whispered,

"You're an ally, I think?"

She felt her lips curl up, and her breath accelerated in her chest. "I'm an ally, Mr Riddle. I'll be back."

* * *

Bellatrix had been only moderately skilled with Human Transfiguration, so when she looked in the window she passed, she found herself hoping desperately that she'd changed her features enough to be inconspicuous. She'd changed her matron's dress and apron into a flowing purple set of robes, and she'd altered her face to make her seem like an old crone. She would need to lower her voice, to gravel it up like an old witch's. She blinked a few times and hobbled into Magical Menagerie on Diagon Alley, and she hacked a few fake coughs. Then she heaved herself to the front desk and croaked to the young wizard behind it,

"Have you got a Flobberworm?"

The young man frowned. "May I ask why you need one? They're pests in gardens. Making a potion? Need the mucus?"  
"My, what a terribly invasive boy you are," Bellatrix scolded him. "What I'm doing with the Flobberworm is my own business. As it happens, I will be using it to make Flobberworm fritters for my grandson; he does so love them."

"Right." The young wizard looked very sceptical but turned around to a wall full of glass cases. He picked up some rubber tongs and opened the lid of one case, picking a jar up off the counter. He reached into the case with the tongs and carefully pulled out a gelatinous-looking Flobberworm, which he dropped into the jar. He screwed a brass lid onto the jar and handed it over.

"Five Sickles, please."

Bellatrix pulled out her coins and made her fingers tremble with apparent age as she gave the boy the money. She took the jar from him and said,

"You're Yaxley's boy, aren't you?"

"I am," he nodded, and she gave him a broad, toothy smile.

"So good to see you, boy. A fine day to you, then." Her words were silk and honey, she thought, and the boy had completely believed that she was an old woman wanting to make Flobberworm fritters. She left Magical Menagerie and edged around the corner of a stone building, into a tiny alley filled with scraps of newspapers and the shadow of rats in the distance.

Bellatrix shut her eyes and Disapparated, thinking of 21 Bassett Gardens, Isleworth. She disappeared into the pinching black void, and when she came to, she was standing before a row of unassuming semi-detached houses. They were of brown plaster with red brick accents and bright white window panes. They were simple houses for simple people, Bellatrix thought. But Mr Riddle was not simple. Bellatrix's father had told her that Tom Riddle had been the most brilliant pupil Hogwarts had ever known. He'd led a group of Slytherin friends in school and had gone to the Continent to learn magic. Bellatrix's father had said that he liked to go by _Lord Voldemort_ these days, a mysterious moniker for an aspirational and ambitious man.

So it seemed strange that he lived in a house as modest as this. She frowned a little as she walked up to Number 21, feeling a thud as she approached. There were wards on this house, she thought. Why hadn't he warned her about the wards? She scowled and pulled out her wand, aiming it at the house and swiping it through the air. She thought of every ward he could have placed - _Salvio Hexia, Repello Muggletum, Protego Maxima -_ and she removed them one by one. Suddenly she realised that emergency responders had been here, and probably Aurors, too. And yet the house was warded up again. That seemed strange. She finally felt herself able to walk up to the door of the house, and she pointed her wand at the doorknob.

" _Alohomora,_ " she murmured, and the door clicked and slowly swung open. Bellatrix gulped as she pushed the door open and stepped inside, looking around the house. It looked as though Mr Riddle had simply taken over the house from the previous owners, because the interior did not seem like anything he would have designed himself. There was busy floral wallpaper in the lounge, an aged yellow background with pink roses. The furniture was pink velvet, and there was a rickety-looking piano against the wall, appearing as though no one had touched it in ages. Bellatrix continued down the corridor, ignoring the staircase that probably led to bedrooms and a bathroom. She walked into an area with a little round table and mismatched wooden chairs - the dining space - and observed the kitchen on the right. It had pale green tile on the backsplash and a wooden countertop, with electric Muggle appliances. Yes, Bellatrix thought. Tom Riddle had commandeered this house from some Muggles, and he'd simply moved right in.

Where had they found him, she wondered? She eyed a little door that was propped open, and she could see stairs going down into a cellar. Had he been downstairs when his friend, Rickard Avery, had found him? How long had he been alone, in a coma on the floor, before Avery had called for Emergency Response from St Mungo's? Bellatrix's chest twisted strangely, but she knew she had no time to dawdle. She went out behind the kitchen and pushed open the door that led to the back garden. She descended into a crouch and opened up the jar in her hands. She tipped the jar, but the Flobberworm was stubbornly stuck to the glass. Bellatrix poked her wand into the jar and jabbed at the Flobberworm until it came unstuck with a little _pop_. It fell onto the grass and began to slowly move away. Bellatrix aimed her wand at the Flobberworm and said softly,

" _Geminio._ "

The Flobberworm instantly doubled. An exact replica of the creature appeared beside the original, both of them moving in opposite directions. Bellatrix smirked and aimed her wand at the original Flobberworm.

" _Geminio. Geminio. Geminio. Geminio. Geminio. Geminio. Geminio._ "

Suddenly she thought she ought to have obtained both a male and a female Flobberworm so that they'd mate, but then she remembered what she'd been taught in Care of Magical Creatures - Flobberworms were asexual and reproduced on their own if they had enough room. Soon enough, the nine Flobberworms she'd set loose in Mr Riddle's garden would turn into dozens. Just to be safe, Bellatrix doubled the original worm six or seven more times.

She went back into the house and thought she ought to get rid of all the evidence she'd been there. She Vanished the jar in which she'd brought the Flobberworm, and she Scoured the handle of the door that led from the house to the garden. She walked backwards, erasing her footprints on the tile and then the carpet. Back through the lounge she went, and out the front door, Scouring and deleting everything she could. Finally she was out on the front stoop again, and she looked around to make sure no one was watching before she swept her wand in elegant swoops and warded up the house again. She Disapparated hard to her right, deliberating on St Mungo's, and when she appeared in the Mediwitch lounge, she was mercifully alone.

* * *

"Well?" Mr Riddle studied Bellatrix's face, and she studied him right back. His chin, beneath his short beard, seemed to have had a chisel taken to it, with part of it hacked off. His face was angular but crooked. Pale white scars crossed his cheekbones and the jagged bridge of his long nose. His eyes were dark and shining, though, and he seemed more alert now than he'd been before. Bellatrix sank into the chair beside his bed and murmured,

"Quite a Flobberworm infestation you've got in your garden, Mr Riddle."

Half his mouth quirked up. "Healer Comstock says Aurors will be searching my house tomorrow to check my story. It doesn't seem believable, according to the good Healer, that I would have been brewing poison to kill the worms."

"Well, there are a great many of them," Bellatrix sighed, "so I can't imagine anyone would blame you for wanting to rid your garden of them."

He nodded. "You've done good work for me. I ought to reward you. How does… twenty-five Galleons sound?"

She laughed softly and shook her head. "Mr Riddle, I'm the daughter of Cygnus Black III. I don't need your money."

He looked abashed all of a sudden, chomping his lip and curling his lips into a mirthless smile. "Yes. Of course. You're very wealthy; you don't need my Galleons."

"I didn't mean to offend," Bellatrix worried, holding up her hands. Mr Riddle shook his head and said seriously,

"Most of my old friends had loads of money. I was the odd man out - going home to a Muggle orphanage, without a Knut to my name."

Bellatrix felt her eyes burn. She'd been rude to him, she thought. She whispered softly,

"Things change. My father says you've got grand goals for wizarding Britain."

"Your father is right," Mr Riddle nodded.

"Miss Black," snapped a voice from behind Bellatrix. She whirled around to see Healer Comstock glaring at her. "You can remove Mr Riddle's line. We're going to have him eat and drink by mouth and use the head himself."

Bellatrix's cheeks went warm. She nodded. "Yes, Healer Comstock. I'll get everything removed straight away."

Healer Comstock turned to go, his robes billowing about him as he left. She could hear him at the next bed over then, murmuring gently to a witch who had taken too much Thinning Potion. Bellatrix gave Mr Riddle a serious look as she pulled out her wand.

"You want to get out of here?" she whispered. "Show them that you're fine."

"I _am_ fine," he answered. "I can eat just fine."

"We'll see about that," Bellatrix warned. "If you vomit up your dinner, they'll put you back on the intravenous nutrition."

At that, Mr Riddle took his free left hand and touched it to his stomach. He shut his eyes and muttered,

" _Nonemesis Maxima._ "

"Brilliant," Bellatrix scoffed. "Wandless magic. An anti-nausea charm. We'll see if it works, Mr Riddle. But I confess myself impressed."

"Why don't you go ahead and get that line out of my arm?" asked Mr Riddle. Bellatrix smirked at him and Scoured her hands. She opened the cupboard beside Mr Riddle's bed and pulled out gauze and a bandage. She sat down in the chair and pulled at Mr Riddle's arm. She palpated the area around the insertion site and asked gently,

"Does it hurt at all? I need to make sure there's no inflammation or infection here."

"It feels fine." Mr Riddle's voice was soft and low, and Bellatrix raised her eyes to him. She pulled carefully at the tape binding the peripheral line to Mr Riddle's arm, and she thought suddenly that he was very handsome. He winced as she pulled the tape, and she whispered,

"So sorry."

"I'm sure all the wizards you treat tell you this," Mr Riddle said, clearing his throat, "but you're very pretty."

Bellatrix felt heat flush from her forehead to her neck. "No one's ever told me that."

"Except for Titus Malfoy, I'm sure," Mr Riddle said quietly. Bellatrix shut her eyes for a moment, then opened them and placed gauze under the IV site. She occluded the line with the metal clamp and held the line in her left hand.

"You really were listening to all that blathering I was doing," she noted. "About my sisters, my parents, my stupid boyfriend…"

"And the stupid Hufflepuff girl," Mr Riddle laughed. Bellatrix grinned at him and shook her head.

"It doesn't matter now. Titus is marrying her."

"You won't be at _that_ wedding, I suppose," Mr Riddle said. Bellatrix huffed and told him,

"Of course I will. It's the wedding of Titus Malfoy and Aster Greengrass. I'm of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, just like them. So of course I'll be there."

"Sorry to hear that," said Mr Riddle softly. "You can take my line out any time."

"Sorry." Bellatrix gulped and turned her attention back to the intravenous line in her hand. She pushed on his skin and pulled out the catheter. There was just a little bleeding, which Bellatrix daubed away with some gauze infused with Essence of Dittany. She watched as the little hole in Mr Riddle's arm healed up, and as she bandaged the area, she said quietly, "There we are."

She began to Vanish the biologically hazardous materials from Mr Riddle's intravenous line, along with the nearly-empty bottle of nutritive liquid. Mr Riddle stared at her from where he lay in his hospital-issued pyjamas, and he said again,

"You did me quite a favour. How can I repay you?"

"Well," Bellatrix said, rubbing her hands together, "I suppose you could write to me, after you're discharged. I wouldn't mind getting a letter from the wizard who has such wondrous plans for wizarding Britain."

"A letter," he said curiously. "What sort of letter?"

"I don't know. It's a stupid suggestion," Bellatrix admitted, but Mr Riddle cleared his throat and said,

"Perhaps, once I am discharged, you and I might have a regular correspondence. I admit I found your five days' of talk illuminating."

"And I'd like to hear more specifics about your ambition," Bellatrix said. Mr Riddle smiled a little and said,

"Letters, then, once I'm out of here. Which should be soon, given that I am perfectly well now."

"Are you?" Bellatrix reached for his hand and squeezed a little. "I am so very glad to hear that."

He tipped his head. "You're teasing me."

"I just suspect you're rushing yourself, sir," Bellatrix worried. "You were in a coma. You don't just wake up from a coma and walk out of the hospital."

"I am not ordinary," Mr Riddle warned her, and Bellatrix felt a tingle come over her. She jolted then, because a House-Elf had appeared with a tray of food at the foot of Mr Riddle's bed.

"Your dinner, sir," said the House-Elf. Bellatrix bent down and took the tray from the elf, watching as Mr Riddle pushed himself up to sit straighter. She pulled his table over his bed and placed the tray of food upon it.

"Looks like… pumpkin pasty, roast goose, and creamed spinach." Mr Riddle curled up a lip. "It doesn't smell so good."

"Just go slowly," Bellatrix advised. "One bite at a time."

"I know how to eat. Thank you." Mr Riddle cocked a brow at her.

"Anything else, sir?" asked the mangy-looking House-Elf. Mr Riddle shook his head and said,

"Go."

The House-Elf snapped its long fingers and disappeared into thin air with a _crack_. Bellatrix watched as Mr Riddle used his knife and fork to cut a bite of pumpkin pasty. Bellatrix quietly moved towards the cupboard and pulled out an emesis bucket. She was fully prepared for Mr Riddle to hurl up the entirety of what he attempted to eat.

But he made it through half the pumpkin pasty and four bites of goose without vomiting. He poked at the creamed spinach but shook his head and whispered,

"Not that."

"You're doing so well," Bellatrix cooed. He gave her a look and then took another bite of pumpkin pasty.

"Wandless anti-vomiting charms help."

"I won't tell Healer Comstock that you helped yourself out," Bellatrix promised. "I understand that you want to go home."

"You saw my home," Mr Riddle smirked. "Would you want to rush back there, if that was where you lived?"

"It could use a renovation," Bellatrix laughed. Mr Riddle didn't laugh back, though. He said seriously,

"Transfiguration spells wear off. Real renovation takes money."

"Sorry," Bellatrix mumbled, realising again that she'd been rude.

"I goaded you," he said. "I'll be kinder in my letters to you."

"Letters," Bellatrix murmured. "Yes. Once you're out of here, we'll exchange letters."

"Bellatrix," trilled Madam Carte from behind Bellatrix, "Jessamyn is here for the night shift. You can go home."

"Yes, Madam Carte." Bellatrix set down the emesis bucket on the table and said softly to Mr Riddle, "Just in case. I'll be back at seven tomorrow morning."

"Until then," he nodded. "Good evening, Miss Black."

She smiled and bowed her head, tugging at her apron. "Good evening, Mr Riddle."

**Author's Note: Oh, this is just way too fun to write. Thank you so very much to all those who have joined me on this story after a long absence from writing fanfic. I appreciate your feedback more than you know.**


	3. Chapter 3

"How was work yesterday, Bellatrix?" asked Cygnus Black III. Andromeda yawned behind a fist, and Druella Black shot her an angry look. Andromeda blinked, and Bellatrix murmured,

"Someone was out late last night. With _Ted Tonks_ , I think."

Druella gasped. "You best not have been!" she cried to her middle daughter.

"I haven't been!" Andromeda exclaimed shrilly, but Narcissa cut in and said somewhat sharply,

"I heard you go into your room at two in the morning, Andy."

Cygnus Black looked around his breakfast table and scowled deeply. "Rifts between my daughters. One running about with a Mudblood. I just -"

" _Don't_ call Ted a 'Mudblood,'" seethed Andromeda. Druella Black narrowed her eyes at her daughter.

"We'll call him that because that's what he is, Andy."

"You're on thin ice," Bellatrix warned, raising her brows. Andromeda tossed her napkin onto the table and flung back her chair.

"I'm going to a friend's house," she complained, and Druella scoffed,

"One of your Mudblood friends?"

"None of your business," Andromeda burst out, and she dashed from the room. Bellatrix heard Andromeda's footsteps running in the corridor, then heard the front door of the house open and slam shut. Narcissa winced, and Druella looked tearful as she said,

"Well. That's my middle daughter gone from us forever. She's lost, Cygnus. Lost!"

"She'll come to her senses, Mum," Narcissa insisted, but Bellatrix shook her head and said,

"Mark my words; she'll be married to that boy the second she leaves Hogwarts."

"Then she will be forever wiped from the House of Black!" spat Cygnus. "No more talk of Andromeda now; I've had enough of that nonsense. I asked you, Bellatrix, how work was yesterday."

"Mr Riddle woke up," Bellatrix smiled, and she said softly, "He's everything you've said and more, Papa."

"I think he prefers to be called _Lord Voldemort_ these days, doesn't he?" Druella actually laughed a little, but Cygnus gave her a serious look and noted,

"He went to the Continent and came back a changed man. You knew him in school, Druella. That little boy is gone."

"So he is," Bellatrix affirmed. She tucked into her eggs and her rashers, decided not to tell her parents that she'd Transfigured her features and gone to Diagon Alley to buy a Flobberworm for Mr Riddle. She decided not to tell them that she'd gone to his house, that she'd seen where he lived, that she'd planted the worms to feign an infestation. She decided to just eat in silence, and when at last the clock read five to seven, she rose from her chair and said,

"Must be on my way. See you both later."

She went out into the corridor and Disapparated, coming to outside Purge and Dowse Department Store in London. Bellatrix opened the front door of the disused department store exterior and entered into the clean, white tiled interior of St Mungo's. She gave a nod to the witch at Reception, who recognised Bellatrix's Mediwitch attire and let her pass by. Bellatrix went to the bank of lifts on the left side of the building and entered one, depressing the number _3_ and waiting as the lift slowly rose. The silver grate slid open on the third level, and Bellatrix stepped out to see that Madam Carte had Mediwitches around her, getting ready to start the shift. Bellatrix joined them and listened as Madam Carte barked out orders.

"Velynda, you'll have Beds One, Two, and Three. They're all easy - don't forget that Mr Grought needs his Decalcification Syrup every three hours now, not every four hours. Healer Parkland wants to speed up his recovery. Marleigh, you'll have Beds Four, Six, Seven, and Eight. Monitor the MacMillan girl for any signs that her warts are coming back. If they do, give her more Clear Skin Concoction. Bellatrix."

Bellatrix snapped to attention, and the other Mediwitches and Madam Carte stared at her.

"You stay by Mr Riddle's side in Bed Five. He's eating and breathing fine, but we want to be certain he doesn't regress, so he needs close monitoring. Also, he'll be visited by the Ministry of Magic today. You may step away for that meeting."

"Yes, Madam Carte," Bellatrix agreed.

"Velynda, let Bellatrix know if you need her to give Mr Grought his Decalcification Syrup if you're busy," said Madam Carte. "Right. Go on, then, girls."

Bellatrix scattered along with the other Mediwitches, and she made her way straight to Bed Five. She peeked around the curtains to see that Mr Riddle was lying on his back with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes peacefully shut. Bellatrix panicked for a moment as she feared that he'd gone back into a coma, and she burst around the curtain.

"Mr Riddle?" she said loudly. His eyes sprang open, and he blinked a few times before rubbing at his eyes with his fists and smiling a little.

"Miss Black. Erm… good morning."

"Sorry," Bellatrix huffed. "I wasn't certain if you were asleep or… you know."

"I really am fine," Mr Riddle insisted. He licked at his lips and said, "So fine I think I shall insist they let me go home today."

Bellatrix grinned and came beside his bed. She walked up to the cupboard and pulled out her equipment to give him a quick beginning-of-shift exam. She placed all of her equipment on the table beside his bed and hummed,

"Andromeda was out until two o'clock with her Mudblood boyfriend."

Mr Riddle tutted. "I'm sure Cygnus didn't appreciate that."

"No. He did not," Bellatrix laughed. "She's a damned fool. Ready?"

She placed her stethoscope tips in her ear and encouraged Mr Riddle to sit up. She placed the diaphragm against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. _Ba-DUM. Ba-DUM. Ba-DUM._ She stared at his face and met his eyes, and his fingers tightened just a little around the blankets he held. Suddenly his heart rate accelerated beneath Bellatrix's stethoscope. _Ba-DUM-Ba-DUM-Ba-DUM._ Something had triggered his heart speeding up. Bellatrix gulped. She pulled her stethoscope away from him and dragged the tips out of her ears.

"You really are fine, I suspect," she mumbled. She set down her stethoscope and picked up her wand. She touched a small metal dial to Mr Riddle's arm and incanted, " _Pressionem Sanguinis Revelio._ "

Mr Riddle squirmed a little as magical pressure was applied to his arm. Bellatrix carefully watched the dial that had two markers - _Systolic_ and _Diastolic._ After a few moments, numbers appeared on the dial's face, seeping in through magic. _115/75._

"Perfect blood pressure," Bellatrix informed Mr Riddle. She smiled at him and removed the dial from his arm. She put her hands on her waist and asked, "Do you feel well in yourself?"

"Yes," Mr Riddle nodded. "I feel fine. I'd like to go home today."  
"That," Bellatrix said, "is not in my control, I'm afraid. But I will report to Healer Comstock that you're doing very well."

Mr Riddle sighed and gazed right at Bellatrix. Finally he asked her, "What does your hair look like when it's down?"

Bellatrix smirked. She shook her head. "I'm not allowed to take it down in here."

Mr Riddle dragged his teeth over his lower lip. "I'm a Legilimens."

"Are you?" Bellatrix raised her eyebrows. "So have you been in my head this whole time?"

"No," he said, "but if you think of your hair in the mirror, I could see it."

She laughed and squeezed at her own waist, wrenching her eyes shut and thinking of the night before. She'd been fresh out of the shower, with a towel wrapped around herself, and she'd been staring in the mirror. Bellatrix realised at once that she'd chosen far too intimate a picture to show Mr Riddle, but it was too late. She could feel a thud in her head, and then she knew he could see the image of her dragging a wide-toothed comb through her damp, wild curls. She slowly dried them with a Hot Air Charm, pulling them over one shoulder and starting to braid.

She opened her eyes and felt a sort of suction in her mind - Mr Riddle pulling out of her head. He stared at her and blinked a few times.

"Pretty," he whispered, and Bellatrix's cheeks went hot at once. He was so handsome, she thought. Chipped and scarred and wounded by some unseen force, but handsome. She thought of the modest house where he lived, with its ugly Muggle furnishings. She thought of writing him letters once he went home. Then she realised she wished he was just a little bit sicker, that he would need her for just a little bit longer. He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but then Healer Comstock's voice boomed from behind Bellatrix,

"Mr Riddle! Good to see you sitting up."

"I've just examined him, Healer Comstock," said Bellatrix. "Vitals are perfect. He's doing quite well."

"Thank you, Miss Black." Healer Comstock waved his hand dismissively and then stepped up to Mr Riddle's bed. He began a physical examination of Mr Riddle, testing the strength of his arms and legs, making him follow his wand with his eyes, and peering into his eyes and mouth with an illuminated wand tip. Finally, Healer Comstock stood up and crossed his arms over his robes.

"Well," he said, "you need to stay here until the Ministry comes calling. That's on the Aurors' orders. But then we'll discharge you and you can go home."

Mr Riddle grinned broadly and nodded. "Good."

But Bellatrix felt her stomach sink a little. She hadn't expected to be sorrowful about Mr Riddle going home. She hadn't expected to feel anything; she never felt anything when patients were discharged. But he was different. Wasn't he so different from all the rest?

Once Healer Comstock left, Bellatrix sat beside Mr Riddle's bed as he ate porridge and apples for breakfast. The House-Elf came to clear the tray, and then Bellatrix whispered,

"My parents say you prefer the name _Lord Voldemort._ Is it true?"

"Yes," he said, sipping from his glass of water. "It is true."

"Would you like me to call you that?" Bellatrix asked. He curled up his lips a little and said,

"In your letters? Yes. Please."

"All right." Bellatrix sighed and licked her lips. She wondered aloud, "It must be very convenient to be a Legilimens."

"It's come in handy more than once," Mr Riddle admitted. He smirked a little at her and sipped again. "I promise I'm not constantly in your mind."

"Were you in my mind at all when you were unconscious?" Bellatrix asked, but Mr Riddle shook his head and said,

"My Legilimency didn't work in a coma. I think my mind was moving just a little too slowly for all of that."

"I see." Bellatrix nodded. She and Mr Riddle sat in comfortable silence for a long moment then, until at last he said,

"You know, I'm invited to that wedding. Titus Malfoy and Aster Greengrass. It's next weekend, isn't it? I'll be there. I never pass up an opportunity to socialise with the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

"Oh!" Bellatrix smiled. "Well, I'm sure you'll be very busy… socialising… but perhaps you might, erm… perhaps you might save me a dance."

"I was going to ask the same of you," Mr Riddle told Bellatrix. He stared seriously at her and said, "I'd be honoured."

"Mr Riddle?"

Bellatrix whirled around to see a tall, pretty witch with blonde waves. She wore deep emerald robes and an elegant hat, and she held a notebook and a quill.

"You've just come from my house, I take it," Mr Riddle nodded, and Bellatrix realised the witch was an Auror.

"Excuse me," Bellatrix said, and she slid past the Auror. She made her way across the ward, walking over to Mr Grought. She checked his schedule for Decalcification Syrup, but he wasn't due yet. Bellatrix warmed Mr Grought's blankets and cast a Water-Making Spell into his glass. She checked his temperature, finding it normal, and murmured to the ancient man,

"You're doing well, Mr Grought."

"Thank you, girl," said Mr Grought. Bellatrix walked away from the bed and glanced over to where the pretty Auror was still talking with Mr Riddle. She was scribbling things in her notebook, and Mr Riddle gazed confidently up at her. Suddenly the Auror vibrated, her quill stilling on her notebook. Then she started writing again, and Bellatrix scowled. She'd just been Confounded! Bellatrix's mouth fell open as she realised Mr Riddle had cast a Confundus Charm upon the Auror. She was amazed then to see the Auror nod and turn and walk away, toward Healer Comstock. The two of them spoke for a moment, and Mr Riddle found Bellatrix's eyes. He beckoned to her with one finger, and Bellatrix hurried over.

"The Aurors found quite a Flobberworm infestation at my house," he said softly. "Of course, they think it was completely idiotic of me to try and suffocate the worms, and they find it difficult to believe that a skilled potioneer like me would botch the poison in the cellar of my own home. But they find it _less_ difficult to believe now that their colleague has been convinced that the entire thing was just an incident of rare stupidity on my part."

Bellatrix grinned and nodded. "So they'll let you go home."

"If Healer Comstock is true to his word," Mr Riddle confirmed. Right on cue, Healer Comstock came walking over and said firmly,

"Mr Riddle, you're in good health now. The Auror confirmed that there was no foul play in the accident that brought you here. We'll get your discharge papers in order, and you can be on your way."

"Thank you, Healer," said Mr Riddle. Bellatrix watched the Healer turn to go, and she gestured.

"Getting your papers in order is actually my job," she shrugged. "I'll be back, and then you can leave."

He nodded, but his eyes looked almost sorrowful. He pursed his lips and said quietly,

"You've given me excellent care."

"I've done my best," Bellatrix told him. "I've tried."

"I look forward to writing letters," Mr Riddle told Bellatrix, "and to dancing at the wedding."

"Just one dance," Bellatrix whispered, her eyes welling. "You'll save me one dance. I'll go get those papers in order now."

* * *

_Dear Miss Black,_

_I am fully recovered at home. The Flobberworms are gone. As I'm sure you're aware, Flobberworms are one of the only living creatures which can be Summoned. So I Summoned them._

_You are the only one, aside from Rickard Avery (whom I told after I got home) who knows what my true intent was with the Suffocation Draught. I hope I can trust you to keep my secrets. If I can, know that there is a place for you among those I consider friends._

_I must confess that I miss hearing you speak to me whilst I sleep in blissful quiet. Believe it or not, Miss Black, I did find everything you said very interesting. And once I woke, I found a lovely young witch taking care of me. What wonder!_

_We will dance, Miss Black. One dance. No. Two, if you'll indulge me._

_Lord Voldemort_

**Author's Note: Please do review! Thanks so much for reading.**


	4. Chapter 4

_Dear Lord Voldemort,_

_It feels odd to call you that. I think I ought to call you… My Lord. Because you've got a title, haven't you? I know wizarding society did away with titles a long time ago, but I find it admirable that you've chosen to use one. Would you be amenable to 'My Lord'?_

_My mother made Narcissa and me go to Twillfit and Tattings to get new dress robes for Titus Malfoy's wedding. Andromeda refuses to go; she says it will be 'an orgy of Pureblood fetish.' My mother slapped her across the cheek for saying that._

_Working at St Mungo's is not the same without my time spent in the bay of Bed Five. I placed two peripheral lines today and had to help when a wizard stopped breathing, but even so, it felt dull. Your presence, even when you were asleep, was mighty._

_I want to hear more about your plans for wizarding Britain. Perhaps you'll tell me all about them… when we dance. Twice._

_Bellatrix Black_

* * *

"Bellatrix!"

She whirled around at the sound of her name to see Gardenia Greengrass, the sister of the bride, strolling up. Bellatrix frowned a little, but Gardenia said warmly,

"How good of you to come. All things considered."

"Yes, well. I didn't have much of a choice," Bellatrix said stiffly. "We're all expected to be everywhere, aren't we?"

"I suppose so." Gardenia curled up half her mouth and nodded. She sipped from her flute of Champagne and said, "You look very pretty."

"So will Aster, I'm sure," Bellatrix said bitterly. "She'll make a beautiful bride for Titus."

Gardenia pinched her lips and then said, "Glad you're here, Bellatrix. So good to see you."

Then she turned on her foot and walked away, and Bellatrix shut her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she saw Tia Rowle, the girl she'd Hexed, speaking with Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. Narcissa was caught up in conversation with Lucius Malfoy. Near them, Abraxas Malfoy and his wife Océane stood talking with Tom Riddle.

Only, he wasn't Tom Riddle, Bellatrix thought. He was Lord Voldemort. She gulped and thought of the letters they'd exchanged over the past week. He'd written to her telling her that he wanted a unified wizarding Britain, separate from the Muggle world, prioritising Blood Purity. He wanted witches and wizards to reign above other Beasts and Beings. He wanted to be in charge of it all, he had said, because he had been born to lead and he was the most qualified person in Britain to lead the charge.

Bellatrix believed all of it. She believed in him, in what he wanted. She believed in Lord Voldemort. She sipped her Champagne and watched him talk with the Malfoys, entranced by him. He was incredibly handsome in a set of luxe-looking black brocade dress robes. His beard had been neatly trimmed, and the sight of it reminded Bellatrix of how she'd kept him neat and clean throughout his coma. She remembered casting careful Severing Charms on his beard, Scouring his body, Freshening his mouth and breath, all whilst he was sleeping. And then he'd awoken and said he'd heard everything she'd said over the last five days, and he'd acted like she was a very interesting witch.

_Until we dance,_ he'd signed his last letter, and Bellatrix had swooned at that. She'd been standing in her bedroom at the Black family home, reading his letter, and her hands had trembled around it. _Until we dance - Lord Voldemort._

Bellatrix's eyes welled where she stood. Suddenly a booming voice, magically Amplified, called through the ballroom of Malfoy Manor.

"Gather, if you will, to witness the handfasting of Titus Malfoy and Aster Greengrass."

The Sacred Twenty-Eight were so intermarried that everyone was distantly related to everyone else, so they all made their way towards the platform that had been raised and stood in one mass. Bellatrix searched for Lord Voldemort in the crowd; he appeared to be chatting with Rickard Avery as they milled in the group waiting for the ceremony to begin. He raised his eyes as though he felt Bellatrix's gaze on him, and he stared at her as Avery spoke. He raised his glass to his lips and sipped, and he nodded with a little smile. Bellatrix's heart thumped a tattoo in her chest, and she grinned as she looked away. She straightened the skirts of her black raw silk ballgown and adjusted the beaded off-shoulder neckline. She tugged anxiously at her elbow-length black gloves and fretted that her makeup wasn't well done, that she ought not to have left her hair down.

She'd done that for him. Her mother had scolded her to put it up, to put it into a chignon or a braided style or _something_ , but Bellatrix had simply used some Miss Cassidy's Curl Creme to make her ringlets shiny. She'd pushed back part of her hair with a jeweled clip - onyx and emerald - and she'd left her hair to cascade down her back and fall over her shoulders.

Would he care, she wondered? Would he mind her wild hair? _Pretty_ , he'd said in St Mungo's, when he'd looked into her memories and had seen her getting ready for bed with her curls hanging loose. Would he still think her pretty, when there were so many other witches about?

Bellatrix huffed and scoffed her way through Titus Malfoy's union to Aster Greengrass. She tried not to think of the times she and Titus had kissed, the way he'd touched her through her school uniform and promised her that when they graduated, they'd be married. She tried not to think of how Titus had Conjured her roses on Valentine's Day, the way he'd bought her sweets at Honeydukes and given them to her on days when she'd been sad. She tried not to think of being told by her old friend Hestia Selwyn that Titus was cheating on Bellatrix with Aster Greengrass. She tried not to think of the way she'd stamped to the Hufflepuff table in the Great Hall and called Aster a ' _nasty whore.'_ And she tried not to think of how, in May, Titus had proposed to Aster with a beautiful diamond ring in front of Bellatrix and Dumbledore and everybody else one night at dinner.

But she couldn't help thinking of that. She couldn't help thinking that Aster looked gorgeous in her white lace gown, her blonde hair pulled into milkmaid braids from which a floor-length veil cascaded. Bellatrix's stomach churned with ugly envy when Titus kissed Aster, the cord binding their hands dissolving into the air as their union was sealed. Everyone clapped for them - everyone except Bellatrix, who just stood there watching and feeling like she was going to be sick on the floor.

Titus Malfoy was fabulously wealthy, and Aster Greengrass came from some money, too. Neither of them would have to work a day in their lives, though Bellatrix knew Titus had taken an administrative position at the Ministry of Magic to keep himself busy. Soon enough, Aster Greengrass would have children with Titus, living a life of luxury, and -

"I'm sorry you had to see that."

Bellatrix turned and dropped her empty Champagne glass. Lord Voldemort quickly stuck out his hand and wandlessly Vanished the glass before it hit the ground. Bellatrix's eyes went round, and she whispered,

"My Lord."

His gaze flashed, and he pursed his lips. He flicked his eyes to where Titus Malfoy was leading Aster Greengrass onto the dance floor, and he murmured,

"If I were you, I'd be terribly drunk by now. I admire your self-control."

"I'm two glasses of Champagne in with every intention of having more, sir," Bellatrix said, and he smirked at her. He went a little serious then, looking around before returning his eyes to Bellatrix's.

"You're the prettiest witch here."

"You flatter me," Bellatrix said helplessly. "Aster is -"

"A _nasty whore_ ," said Voldemort. Bellatrix realised he'd been watching her memories with Legilimency, that he'd been in her head during the ceremony. Somehow, she couldn't find it in herself to be angry with him about that. Perhaps she should have been, but she wasn't. Instead, it seemed almost… romantic. It seemed wondrous, somehow, that he had such power and could wield it at will. She licked her lips and muttered,

"I find I am not so bitter about being here… having been promised two dances."

"I confess I have been looking forward rather earnestly to those dances," said Lord Voldemort. "I have been rendered rather a fool by them, by the promise of them."

Bellatrix felt like she was going to cry then. It was all too much. Titus marrying Aster. Lord Voldemort's letters over the last week. The memories of caring for him and covering his tracks with the Ministry. She had been taunted by the spectre of the dances, too. She'd been lying awake, night after night, hearing phantom music in her head and imagining his hands on her.

"Miss Black."

She looked up at him and insisted softly, "Bellatrix."

He sank his teeth into his lip and just stared for a long moment. People started clapping, and Bellatrix realised it was because Aster had finished dancing with Titus. The hired orchestra picked back up, and couples began to make their way to the floor.

"Bellatrix," said Lord Voldemort, holding out his white-gloved hand.

"My Lord," she whispered back, and again his eyes flashed wildly. She put her fingers into his palm, and he curled up half his mouth as he murmured,

"I quite like that. _My Lord._ Shall we dance?"

"Yes." Bellatrix walked with him towards the dance floor, sparing a glance to where Narcissa was tangled up with Lucius Malfoy in a clumsy stance. They were smiling and happy, though, and when Narcissa saw Bellatrix with Lord Voldemort, her younger sister's face broke into a broad grin. Bellatrix felt herself blush, wondering if he was embarrassed to be seen dancing with her.

"Of course I'm not embarrassed. To be dancing with the prettiest one here?" He raised his eyebrows at her. Bellatrix coughed a little laugh and said,

"You told me you weren't in my head all the time."  
"I'm curious tonight," he confessed. "I'm being invasive. I apologise."

He curled one hand around Bellatrix's waist and took her other hand in his. She flinched and then relaxed at the feel of him touching her, even through the fabric of his gloves and her gown. She gulped hard and put her hand on his shoulder, and they started to sway.

"You've left your hair down," Voldemort noted after a few notes, "and you've done so for me."

"Yes," Bellatrix confirmed. He flicked his eyes up and down her form and asked quietly,

"What else would you do for me?"

Bellatrix felt her brows furrow. She shook her head, surprised by his question. "Wh-what do you mean? Sir?"

"I am a wretched man," he whispered, "and I am prone to doing terrible things. You didn't flinch, not even a little, when I told you my poison was meant for the Muggle Underground. Instead, you helped me. You Transfigured your features, and you planted Flobberworms in my garden to help my alibi, and you kept caring for me. Obediently. You have already shown such obedience."

Bellatrix nodded and said firmly, "If there is something you wish for me to do, you need only ask."

His face hardened, and he said in a low hiss, "You really are beautiful. So dangerous, and so obedient, and so beautiful."

"Dangerous," Bellatrix repeated. She tipped her head and squeezed at his shoulder a bit. "I like that."

"So do I," he told her. The song ended, and Bellatrix felt sadness wash over her. But then Voldemort tightened his hand on her waist and reminded her, "Two dances."

"I could dance all night with you, I think," Bellatrix chuckled, as the new song started up. This one was a little faster-paced, and Bellatrix adjusted her stance. "I know you have people to talk to."

He met her eyes and told her, "I think I'm having the most important conversation of the night right now."

Bellatrix felt dizzy at that. She nodded and asked, "Have you been well in yourself?"

"I'm perfectly fine. No more brewing in my cellar," Voldemort told her. "And, as I told you, the Flobberworms have all gone."

"Has the Ministry given you any trouble?" Bellatrix asked in a low voice.

"No," he said. Then he looked around and lowered his voice. "I still mean to carry out an attack on Muggles. I've got some ideas. Nothing that I can discuss here, and nothing that I can put into a letter. I want to make a mark so that my old friends from school come crawling back to me as their leader."

"Instill fear," Bellatrix smiled, and Voldemort's fingers cinched around her.

"You like the sound of that."

"I'd be the first in line to obey you once you've attacked the stupid Muggles," Bellatrix promised him, and he shut his eyes for a moment.

"I know you will be," he whispered. "Bellatrix…"

"Can we meet to discuss your plans?" she asked, and he nodded. He opened his eyes and told her, "You know where my house is."

"21 Bassett Gardens, Isleworth," Bellatrix affirmed. Voldemort chewed his lip for a moment and then said,

"Tomorrow evening, at six o'clock, come to my house. We'll have dinner and discuss what I have in mind."

"Dinner?" repeated Bellatrix, and Voldemort scoffed.

"You've seen my house. Don't expect anything formal."

"N-No. Of course not. I'm not expecting… anything." Bellatrix shrugged. The song ended, and Bellatrix reluctantly let her hand slip from Voldemort's shoulder. But he took her wrist and guided it back up, his glove covering hers for a moment before he put his hand back on her waist. Bellatrix was surprised, even more so when he asked her,

"May I have one more dance, Miss Black?"

She grinned. "I'd be honoured, My Lord."

**Author's Note: Everybody say "awwwwww." Now they're going to have dinner and discuss plans to murder Muggles. Sounds romantic, no? Well, it is for these two. Thank you so much for reading. I'd really appreciate your feedback.**


	5. Chapter 5

Bellatrix huffed as she stared at herself in the mirror. She felt sloppy in this outfit - a knee-length pleated black skirt and a black jumper. Moreover, the weather was far too hot for the jumper. She ripped off the clothes and Banished them to her wardrobe, Summoning a black cotton dress. It had short sleeves and eyelets sewn in all around it; it was summery despite being black. It clung to Bellatrix's little waist and then fell about her with a skirt that swished when she moved. She smirked and nodded to herself, slipping on simple black satin flats.

She hadn't had work today, so she'd spent the day fretting over clothes and makeup and perfume and her hair. She wanted to look good for him, for Lord Voldemort. She cared what he thought of her, because she wanted him.

She wanted him.

When she Disapparated from the Black family house and came to outside 21 Bassett Gardens, Isleworth, Bellatrix was taken back to the day she'd disguised herself for him. She stood staring at the simple house, with its brick accents, and she thought it was much too plain a home for the likes of Lord Voldemort. He needed a palace, she thought, or at least a manor home like one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. She took down the wards around the house designed to protect it from enemies and Muggles. She walked through the rickety gate and up to the front door, and she raised her fist tentatively. Should she knock? Dare she knock?

The door swung open, and Lord Voldemort stood before her in an elegant but unadorned emerald green robe. He smiled a little at her and admitted,

"I felt the pulse of your mind out here."

"My Lord. How very gifted you are," Bellatrix said, feeling breathless all of a sudden. Voldemort's eyes crinkled as his grin broadened.

"Come inside and let us discuss what I have in mind for wizarding Britain."

She nervously followed him into his house, into the ugly floral sitting room. She looked around at the rose-patterned wallpaper and the hideous velvet furniture stuffed inside. She pinched her lips, and then Lord Voldemort said softly,

"It wasn't much when the Muggles lived here, and it still isn't much, but, for now, at least, it's home."

"You deserve so much better," Bellatrix whispered, but she knew he heard her. He scoffed as he shut the door, and when she turned towards him, he was scratching his hair and pursing his lips.

"I'll have better soon enough. I just got a five thousand Galleon donation to my cause from Rickard Avery."

"He seems like a good friend," Bellatrix noted. "Have you got many good friends?"

"I did, once upon a time," Voldemort said. "Or, at least, I had followers. In school. I don't know if one would consider my relationship with them true friendship. Just the same, I'd like to have them back. That's why I'm going to attack the Muggles."

"And how will you do that, now that your idea for poison has been mucked up?" Bellatrix asked. Voldemort turned to her in the corridor, and she realised just how near they were standing. He smelled so good, like the ocean and leather. He stared down at her and whispered,

"I'm going to crash a bus."

"A bus," Bellatrix repeated, shaking her head. "Like the Knight Bus?"

"Sort of, except it's red and full of Muggles," Voldemort smirked. "I'll tip it over and blow it up."

Bellatrix grinned up at him, and he murmured,

"You like the sound of that."

"I can't help it," Bellatrix said. "I'm wicked, perhaps. We had two Muggles come into St Mungo's because they had been Hexed, and it took everything I had not to… you know…"

"Kill the patients?" Voldemort cocked an eyebrow. He laughed quietly. "My, but you _are_ wicked. And I find I quite like it. Will you come have dinner? It's nothing much, be warned."

Bellatrix followed him into the kitchen and dining area to see that he'd set the table with formal linens and had lit candles on silver sticks in the centre of the table. Bellatrix smiled a little as Voldemort pulled out her chair, and she sat. He pulled the dome off her plate and revealed roasted quail, haricots verts, and mashed potato. Bellatrix nibbled her lip as Voldemort sat opposite her and Banished the domes to the kitchen. He raised his glass of white wine, and Bellatrix did the same. She stared right at him as he said softly,

"To a Britain with witches and wizards in their rightful place."

"To a wizarding Britain under Lord Voldemort," Bellatrix countered, and he smirked. He sipped his wine and set down his glass, and then he and Bellatrix both cut into their meat.

"When I was sleeping," Voldemort said eventually, "you told me that your sister Andromeda is dating a Mudblood. What is he called?"

"Ted Tonks, My Lord," Bellatrix answered at once. "He's a favourite of Albus Dumbledore. He and my sister are quite serious. Andy says they mean to marry after school."

"How hideous," Voldemort said. "Wouldn't it be nice if Ted were to… Vanish?"

Bellatrix laughed under her breath and shook her head. "Believe me, My Lord, I'd get rid of him myself, but Andy would just find a new Mudblood."

"But what if we got rid of this one first?"

Bellatrix raised her eyes to Voldemort and realised he was serious. She nodded and asked, "How? When?"

"Do you know where he lives?" Voldemort asked.

"No, but Andy does," Bellatrix said. "If only there were a way to get her to tell me…"

"I could get her to tell _me_ ," Voldemort said. His brows went up, and he set down his knife and fork before sipping more wine. "If I came to visit the Black family home, somewhat unannounced, I could easily pull the boy's address out of Andromeda's head with Legilimency. She'd never know."

"And then?" Bellatrix asked, her voice trembling a little with anticipation.

"And then," Voldemort said, "you could go on your first mission."

"Mission," Bellatrix repeated in disbelief. "Am I to be a soldier for you?"

He just stared at her, and she touched her fingers to her lips. "You really want me to… to serve you."

"You have already shown strength of mind, and obedience, and I would like for you to kill Ted Tonks for me," Voldemort said flatly. Bellatrix grinned behind her fingers and laughed.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, My Lord."

"So gleeful about murder," he said, and he suddenly seemed a little overcome. He rubbed his hands together and mumbled, "So excited to do my bidding."

Bellatrix rose slowly from her chair and walked around the table to where Voldemort sat. He gazed at her as though he were very hungry, and then he pulled himself up to stand. He put his hands on Bellatrix's shoulders and pushed her a little. She gasped, and then he pushed her again. She shut her eyes as he guided her rather roughly towards the wall, and once her back hit his wallpaper, she tipped her head and said quietly,

"I want you… to…"

"You want _what?_ " Voldemort hissed. He cupped her jaw in his hand and bent down, putting his lips beside Bellatrix's ear. His breath was warm and steady against her skin as she heard him ask again, "What do you want from me, little girl?"

"I want you… to be my master," Bellatrix whined. His breath hitched then, and he whispered against her ear,

"Say that again."

"I want you to be my master," Bellatrix said more confidently. "I want to obey you."

"Mmph." Voldemort moved his mouth from her ear and crushed it against Bellatrix's lips. She gasped again, her mouth opening. His tongue slid in at once, and she tasted wine and meat on him. She drank him in as he pulled at her bottom lip, nibbling a little and dragging his tongue across the roof of her mouth. Bellatrix moaned, sliding her arms up around his shoulders. She held onto him and then felt the insistent press of his manhood on her stomach. He was aroused, she thought. All of this talk of him being her master had aroused him. He ground his cock against Bellatrix's belly and murmured against her lips,

"I knew. I knew before I even woke up. You were taking care of me, and I could tell you were the one to do my will. I could tell you would become my servant. I knew it."

_Master. Servant._ It all felt strange to Bellatrix, and yet very right, somehow. She nodded and said breathlessly,

"You'll come to my parents' house and get Ted Tonks' address. And then, in the middle of the night, I will murder him. For you."

"Bella…"

She gasped at the sound of her shortened name from him. He kissed her again, more aggressively than ever, and she found herself thinking back to dancing with him, to putting an intravenous line in his arm, to listening to his accelerating heartbeat with her stethoscope. She thought of talking to him whilst he was unconscious, not knowing that he could hear. She thought of writing him letters, of their promised one dance that had turned into three.

And then she kissed him for all she was worth.

He was older, she knew. She was, what, twenty-five years younger than him? She couldn't care. She couldn't care that he lived in an ugly Muggles' house. She couldn't care that he was probably in her head right now with Legilimency.

"Bella," he huffed again, pulling away at last. "We're meant to be eating dinner."

"Master." Bellatrix put her fingers to his chest, and his dark eyes flashed wildly.

"Again."

"Master," she hummed, and his hands were everywhere then. He slid the fingers of one hand up the outside of her thigh, he brushed his knuckles against her ribcage. He kissed her forehead and let out a low noise against her skin. She muttered as she stared at his throat,

"I'm going to kill Ted Tonks for you."

"You took care of me," he said, kissing her forehead again. "Now, I promise, if you obey me, I will take good care of you, too."

She wondered what he meant by that, but before she could think too hard on it, his fingers had drifted to the inside of her thigh. She gasped and tossed her head back, staring up at him and saying fearfully,

"I'm a virgin."

There was silence for a moment.

"Well," Voldemort said, looking rather abashed, "I am a patient man. I have no need to rush you. I confess I found myself rather… _bothered_ … by the way you were talking. I'm sorry I got so heated."

"There's nothing to apologise for, Master," Bellatrix said, and his gaze flared once more at the title. His fingers worked their way back out to the exterior of Bellatrix's thigh and then released her.

"Our food has gone cold, I'm sure," he whispered, his breath trembling just a little.

"I don't care," Bellatrix replied. Voldemort held her cheeks in his hands and bent to plant a soft kiss on her lips. He murmured almost gently,

"You're going to kill the Mudblood for me, and I'm going to destroy a bus."

"And then it won't just be Rickard Avery donating, and it won't just be me obeying," Bellatrix said. Voldemort sucked in breath hard at that and said a bit desperately,

"It must all be _mine_."

"Yes," Bellatrix whispered. She shut her eyes and thought of him silent and motionless in his hospital bed. She thought of him waking and telling her that his poison had been intended for the Muggle Underground. She thought of coming here and planting Flobberworms so he wouldn't get in trouble with the Ministry. She thought of the letters, of the dancing…

_Obedient,_ he'd called her, almost reverently. She wanted to be obedient. She knew he was right, that he was the only one who could truly lead wizarding Britain.

"It must all be yours," she said softly.

"Beginning with you," he said, and then he pulled back and dragged Bellatrix toward the dining table. She sat, feeling breathless as he warmed their food with a few waves of his wand. He tucked the menacing-looking pale wand away and said quietly, "Let's finish eating."

They did, speaking in brief conversations about Ted Tonks and the best way to sneak into his house at night. They talked about how Voldemort was going to crash and light afire a Muggle bus. He gave her names - her father, Avery, Mulciber, Rowle, Crabbe, Goyle - of his old school friends who would come clamoring back once Voldemort had proven himself again. She asked him what he'd learnt on the Continent, and he said that he'd explain all of that some other time.

"Perhaps I'll teach you some of it," he said, once their plates were empty. He Scoured the plates and Banished them to the kitchen, and Bellatrix looked at him in the light of the candles. The sun was setting now, and his face was aglow. The angles and cuts in his face seemed harsher and sharper and deeper than ever, but he was so handsome, she thought. His beard was tightly clipped and his dark hair was just woven through with a few silver threads. She wanted him. Oh, she wanted him.

"What will you teach me, My Lord?" she asked him, and he curled up his lips a little as he said,

"Much as I'd hate for you to be able to wield the power against me, I think it would be remarkably useful for you to become an Occlumens," Voldemort said. "You know so much about me already. Who knows what snooping Legilimens would feast upon that information?"

"Dumbledore, you mean." Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, filled with loathing for the man. Voldemort glanced at a fingernail and said,

"Yes, like Dumbledore. Anyway. Perhaps you could come here for Occlumency lessons once you and I have carried out our attacks."

"I would like that," Bellatrix said. Voldemort looked at her then and said,

"I'll be at your house tomorrow during breakfast. It's your parents' twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and I should like to congratulate them in person. And, of course, to get Ted Tonks' address from your sister's mind. Meet me here tomorrow afternoon to get the information. I want him dead tomorrow night."

Bellatrix nodded eagerly. "Yes, Master."

"Obedient," he breathed. "She is so beautifully obedient."

_I want you to be my master,_ she'd told him earlier, and she realised now that she meant it. He served them each a scoop of vanilla ice cream for dessert, and then Bellatrix rose and said,

"I've overstayed my welcome."

"On the contrary," Voldemort said, pushing himself from his chair, "but I won't keep you any longer. We'll meet again tomorrow."

"Yes, My Lord." Bellatrix made her way towards the door, clutching her handbag and feeling her heart and breath race. She blinked a few times and licked her lips as she stood by the door. "Goodnight, then. Thank you for dinner."

"Bella," Voldemort said, reaching down. He snared his fingers into her wild curls - the curls she'd left down for him - and he leaned until his lips met hers. His beard scratched at her skin and made her tingle from the inside out. She hummed against his mouth and then whispered,

"Goodbye, Master."

He stood up slowly and gave her a look of obvious want. But he nodded and put his hand between her shoulder blades, holding it there for a moment before stepping back. He flashed her a little smile and said,

"Tomorrow morning. Expect me during breakfast."

She grinned, and she whirled hard to her right, Disapparating with a _crack_ from 21 Bassett Gardens.

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in updating. If you get a moment to spare for a comment, I'd really appreciate it.**


	6. Chapter 6

"Bellatrix, you haven't touched your eggs. Are you feeling off this morning?"

Bellatrix raised her eyes from her breakfast plate to her mother. She smiled just a little and shrugged.

"They're operating on a patient today at St Mungo's. I'll have to help. It's just anticipation, I suppose."

"Oh, an operation. How terrible. What's wrong with her?" asked Narcissa.

"Her heart has been gravely affected by the effects of a Beautification Potion gone horribly wrong," Bellatrix said, poking her fork at an egg and breaking the yolk. "The Healers have to go in and clear out the heart and then close her back up, and -"

"Ugh. I'm going to be sick," mumbled Narcissa. Bellatrix laughed.

"You asked."

_Ding-dong._

Bellatrix sprang to her feet, her cutlery clattering down onto the table. She looked about at her surprised family, and she said quickly,

"I'll go get it."

"Let the House-Elf get it, Bella," said Narcissa softly. Bellatrix frowned. Druella dabbed her napkin to her lips and demanded,

"Who would come to our house this early?"

Suddenly the House-Elf came tottering into the dining room and bowed so low she nearly toppled over. "Madam Druella. Master Cygnus. May I present Tom Riddle?"

"It is Lord Voldemort, isn't it?" Bellatrix said breathlessly. The figure of Voldemort appeared in the open doorway of the dining room.

"So it is," he said. Cygnus and Druella gasped, rising to their feet. Bellatrix grinned at him. He eyed Andromeda for a brief moment, and when he cleared his throat, Bellatrix knew he'd gotten what he'd come for - Ted Tonks' address. Voldemort held out a little wrapped gift to Cygnus Black and said,

"I have many things to do today, Cygnus. Druella. But I wanted to come by and wish you a happy twenty-fifth wedding anniversary."

"My goodness! You remembered!" Druella seemed amazed as Cygnus accepted the gift. He unwrapped it, and inside there was a cube of glass. Bellatrix marveled as her father turned the glass cube around and revealed a moving portrait of him and Druella etched inside. Bellatrix wondered how Voldemort had gotten the portrait of Cygnus and Druella; had he kept one from school all those years earlier? Voldemort suddenly looked at Bellatrix and smirked.

"I kept a lot of things I thought might come in handy later. Your parents made quite the couple as Hogwarts students. I thought I'd protect the photograph by encasing it in glass."

"My goodness," Druella said again, and this time she was swiping tears from her eyes. Andromeda looked very unimpressed as she stood with her arms crossed over her chest, but Narcissa took the cube from her father and gazed with wonder at the photograph inside.

"Well, thank you very kindly, Tom. Erm… Lord… erm…" Cygnus' face went red as he stumbled all over his words.

" _My Lord,_ " Bellatrix gently corrected her father. Andromeda looked scandalised, and Narcissa looked amazed as she clutched the glass cube. Druella said primly,

"Thank you for the gift… My Lord."

"You're very welcome," Voldemort said, bowing his head. "A very fine day to all of you. Bellatrix, do be well at St Mungo's. I appreciate the care you gave me there."

"It was nothing at all, My Lord," Bellatrix breathed. Voldemort turned to go then, the House-Elf showing him out. The Black family sat back at the dining table, except for Bellatrix, who said tightly,

"Off to the hospital with me, then."

"But you didn't eat breakfast," Narcissa warned. Bellatrix shrugged.

"I'll eat a good lunch. See you all."

She stalked quickly out of the dining room and Disapparated from the corridor, coming to outside the department store in which she would find St. Mungo's.

* * *

"Have you got your gloves and mask?" Healer Comstock turned to Bellatrix. "Oh, good."

Bellatrix had a woven cotton mask on, enchanted to keep herself and the patient safe from anything in her breath. She also had on gloves of the thinnest Dragon-Hide, designed to protect against infection for both Mediwitch and patient.

"Go on and sedate her," said Healer Comstock. Bellatrix nodded and picked up a dose of Draught of Living Death. She thought back to sixth-year Potions, when she'd been the only student to successfully brew the incredibly difficult product. Hers had been so good that it had come here to St Mungo's for use. Was this bottle the one she'd brewed a few years earlier, Bellatrix wondered? She smirked a bit and pulled out the dropper.

"Right, Mrs. Billings," she said. "One drop under the tongue."

Soon enough, Mrs Billings was in a state of suspended animation, completely gone to the world. She lay in silent stillness, and Healer Comstock said,

"Right. Here we are. Ready for incision?"

"Ready," said Healer Young, the other surgeon on the case. "Mediwitch, be prepared to Siphon the blood."

"Yes, sir," Bellatrix said.

Before she knew what was happening, Bellatrix was Siphoning and Scouring blood from the open-chested Mrs Billings, who was lying on her back with her heart exposed. Bellatrix should have been disgusted, she thought, by the sight of the witch's chest cracked open. But instead she just watched in wonder as Mrs Billings' heart operation was carried out. She helped the Healers Scour the entire body as she was stitched back up, and then she was ordered by Healer Comstock to sit with Mrs Billings through her suspended animation as she healed up from surgery.

Bellatrix did not speak with Mrs Billings the way she'd talked to Tom Riddle. Instead she just monitored the witch's intravenous fluid drip and sat with a magazine, _Witch Weekly._ She read about Orsino and the Bears and the concert they'd sold out. She read about what new lipstick shades were in vogue for the coming autumn. She read a story, meant to tug at the heartstrings, about a female Squib who had married an Auror and had difficulty living without magic in the wizarding world. Bellatrix curled up her lip at that story and tossed the magazine down in disgust.

"Bellatrix?"

She whirled around and stood from her chair. Jessamyn, another Mediwitch, gave her a winning grin and said,

"I can go ahead and take over for you now," Jessamyn said. "You can head home."

"Oh. Thanks, Jessamyn. She's still sleeping and will be for three more days. No need to do much of anything with her."

"How did the surgery go?" Jessamyn asked. Bellatrix shrugged.

"You know. It was a heart surgery. It went as well as things go when your chest is cracked open."

"Right." Jessamyn curled up half her mouth. "Bye, then."

"Goodbye." Bellatrix stood and made her way off the ward. She went back down into the lobby of the hospital, but she didn't go home. Instead she Disapparated straight to 21 Bassett Gardens, Isleworth. She came to outside of Mr Riddle's home, and she tugged at her dark Mediwitch skirts and smoothed her apron as she approached the simple house. She pulled down the protective wards and stalked up through the front garden, which she now noticed was tangled and unkempt. He couldn't be bothered with this Muggle house, Bellatrix knew. He was going to have something far better. This was very temporary.

She knocked firmly on the door of the house, and just a moment later, the door opened. Voldemort stood before Bellatrix in a white linen shirt that was open at the chest, tucked into a pair of tight-fitting trousers designed to go under a robe. Bellatrix's eyes widened. He was so incredibly handsome like this, in a state of relative undress. She gulped and whispered,

"Hello, Master."

"13 Milburn Road, Ashington."

He said the address in a tight clip, and Bellatrix felt her eyes go wider than ever. She parted her lips and asked,

"Ashington?"

"In Northumberland," Voldemort specified. "13 Milburn Road. Ashington."

Bellatrix squared her jaw and nodded firmly. "I'll kill him at midnight. By tomorrow morning, he'll be gone."

"Bella," Voldemort said softly, and he reached for her jaw. "It's only a few minutes past seven. You've got hours before you need to go to Ashington."

"So I have," Bellatrix murmured. She shut her eyes against the feel of his palm on her cheek, rough and warm. She huffed a breath as Voldemort said slickly,

"Come inside, Bellatrix."

"Master." She opened her eyes then and followed him into the house. He shut the door behind her and glanced over his shoulder to the stairs. He licked his lips and said quietly,

"You've vowed to serve me. You want me to be your master."

"Yes," she whispered, and he slid his fingers through hers and pulled her towards the stairs a little.

"Come with me," he commanded, and Bellatrix grinned broadly.

"Yes."

* * *

His bedroom was tiny; the bed and wardrobe filled up nearly all the space inside. He had a homespun quilt on his iron bed, and the wardrobe was of banged-up wood. Bellatrix watched his face flush deep red, and she couldn't help wondering if that was from embarrassment or something else.

"I am not embarrassed," Voldemort said tightly. "Someday I'll have something very grand, and I'll plunder you there."

Bellatrix's face went hot at that. She gulped and watched as Voldemort stripped off his white linen shirt. Beneath, he was lean and taut, but he had scars running all over his chest and arms. One particularly nasty gash on his abdomen looked almost like he'd been stabbed through with a sword.

"And?" Voldemort said sharply. He narrowed his eyes. Bellatrix nibbled her bottom lip and then said quietly,

"So handsome."

"Liar," Voldemort snapped, but Bellatrix shook her head and whispered,

"Handsome to me. I've thought so ever since you were in a coma in St Mungo's."

He smirked. "Were you sitting there, watching me sleep, daydreaming about me, Miss Black?"

"Maybe I was," she teased, and he scoffed.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered her. Bellatrix gulped. Was she ready to lose her virginity? Did it matter? He was her master. She was his servant. Did it matter anymore what she wanted? Or were his wishes the only ones that counted? She knew the answer.

She reached around her back and untied the bow of her apron strings. She pulled the Mediwitch apron off the front of her and folded it slowly, setting it down on the lower corner of the bed. Then she put her hands to the neckline of her woolen dress and began to unbutton, her fingers trembling terribly. Voldemort dragged his fingers over the placket of his trousers as he watched her undress, and his throat visibly bobbed. He deepened the strokes of his fingers when Bellatrix peeled off her woolen dress, and then she stood before him in a cotton bra and knickers.

"All of it off," he murmured, and she nodded. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, dragging it off her shoulders. She should be humiliated, she thought, to let him see her small, round breasts. She couldn't find it in herself to be ashamed; she just wanted him.

"Knickers off." He sounded breathless now, and Bellatrix slid her knickers down over her hips and slithered out of them. She stepped out of the knickers and pushed down her wool socks, kicking off her flat shoes. Then she was completely naked, and Voldemort whispered,

"Lie on the bed."

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix followed his orders and climbed up onto the bed. She tingled from head to toe with anticipation, and then she heard him say,

"Take your hair down."

"Oh." Bellatrix pulled at her matron's cap and tugged at the pins keeping her hair in a tight bun. She shook her curls out, and Voldemort let out a little noise of obvious want. Now she watched as he unbuttoned his trousers and dragged them down over his own hips and legs. He rid himself of his own underwear and stalked towards the bed. Bellatrix marveled then, because he'd revealed his cock to her, and she was in awe.

It was long and thick and throbbing, with a purplish head that glistened. Bellatrix reached out as Voldemort climbed onto the bed, and she whispered,

"Can I touch it?"

"Touch it," he ordered her. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and chomped her lip. Velvet on stone. He was like velvet on stone. "Keep touching me."

She stroked at him; she knew what to do with this. She'd touched Titus Malfoy's cock through his trousers and knew that wizards liked attention at the tip. She dragged her thumb over the slit in his tip, and he hissed as he knelt beside her.

"Contraception?" he clipped, raising his eyebrows. Bellatrix puffed out a breath and reached for her wand. She aimed it at her lower abdomen and incanted,

" _Nongravidare Maxima._ "

"You don't want this," Voldemort noted, and Bellatrix stared at him. She shook her head helplessly and said,

"I want _you_."

"But you don't want _this_ ," Voldemort insisted. Bellatrix felt very self-conscious, all of a sudden, being naked before him and having him question her interest. She threw her hands up and whispered,

"It just feels like going from kissing straight into this is… erm…"

"You're right, of course. There are other things which may come first," Voldemort told her. "I am a patient man."

"But you must have what you want," Bellatrix pleaded. "You are my master, and I must -"

"I will never coerce you," Voldemort insisted. He brushed his fingers over Bellatrix's breast, over her soft nipple, and he muttered, "You're going to kill Ted Tonks tonight for me. I got excited. Besides… you in that Mediwitch ensemble…"

She laughed a little then, and he reached up to hold her face. He leaned forward and kissed her softly, murmuring against her lips,

"Let's just kiss with no clothes."

"Is that… a _thing?_ " Bellatrix asked, and Voldemort replied,

"It's a thing if I say it's a thing. I want to kiss you with no clothes. Now, Bellatrix… at least kiss me."

"Oh, yes, Master."

They began to tangle up like vines after a long while of kissing. Their tongues twined in his mouth, then in hers. He nibbled at her lip and suckled on her tongue. His hands caressed her breasts and ran up and down her ribcage. Bellatrix seethed through her nose and began to feel the aching throb of desire between her legs. She finally tossed one leg over Voldemort's and reached for his cock.

"Hmm-mm." He shook his head. "You don't want it."

"I do, I think." Bellatrix aimed his tip at her entrance, only then realising she was sodden and swollen with anticipation. She felt him stretch her as he pushed in, felt a little rip and then the sensation of being incredibly full. She gasped onto Voldemort's mouth, and he wrapped her up in his arms and pulled her close as he rocked his hips. It hurt; it hurt badly enough that Bellatrix whimpered. But soon enough, the pain faded into a distant, growing pleasure. Bellatrix ground her hips against Voldemort's and kissed him hard, and then he pulled back and said onto her mouth,

"Beautiful, vicious, obedient creature that you are. Do you know how highly I think of you?"

"Master." Bellatrix arched her back, pressing her breasts against him, and she snared her fingers in his thinning hair. He took her curls in a fist and pulled, and she gasped at the mixture of pleasure and pain. He pulled again and her eyes fluttered shut. She moaned softly, his hips still pistoning against hers. He kept pushing and pushing until Bellatrix felt a growing glow emanating from her core. She felt everything going tight, felt everything going warm, and she whispered,

"I'm going to come."

"Do it," he hissed. "Show me that you enjoy me."

"Master." She was desperate now; he was thrusting against her at precisely the right angle and his cock was filling her over and over again. He was deep inside of her now, and they rolled until he was on his back and Bellatrix was atop him. She instinctively cycled her hips and felt her clit rubbing against him. She tossed her curls over one shoulder, and he groaned loudly.

" _Ungh…_ " his eyes squeezed shut, and suddenly Bellatrix felt him twitching inside of her. There was wet heat leaking out of her then, as his fists balled and his cheeks went scarlet. She realised he'd come, and the thought of that pitched her over her own edge. She bounced on him a few times and then rolled her hips onto his softening cock, and that was enough. She felt her walls contract, felt her body tense up around him, and she couldn't see or hear for a long moment.

"Bella," she perceived him muttering eventually. She felt herself being pulled down, felt him draw her up against his body as fluids leaked between her legs.

"You'll kill him in your Mediwitch uniform, because I want to imagine you doing that," Voldemort hummed. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "Beautiful, vicious, obedient creature that you are."

"Shall I dress and get ready to go?" Bellatrix asked, but Voldemort sighed.

"You've plenty of time. Just lie here for a while. Hmm?"

Bellatrix almost fell asleep there, curled up against her master. He _did_ fall asleep, his breath coming deep and heavy as he slumbered. She glanced at the clock when it was half past eleven, and she rose and slowly put her clothes back on. She was tying up her apron when she heard a voice from the bed.

"Leave your curls down."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix said into the dark bedroom. Voldemort pushed himself up onto one elbow and stared at her through the moonlight.

"Do me proud."

"I'll do my very best, Master," Bellatrix promised. "I'll kill him and Vanish the body. It'll be a grand disappearance."

"I think very highly of you." He'd said that earlier, but hearing it again meant everything to Bellatrix. She smiled a little at him and whispered,

"When will I see you again?"

"Come here tomorrow after work," Voldemort said. "No. Wait. Go home and see Andromeda's reaction first. Then come here. We'll talk about it over a late dinner."

"Yes, My Lord." Bellatrix grinned broadly. She reached for her wand and tucked her matron's cap into the pocket of her apron.

"Goodbye, Bella," Voldemort purred.

"Goodbye, Master," Bellatrix whispered, taking a step toward the wardrobe. There was barely enough room in here to Disapparate, but she managed, and when she opened her eyes, it was pouring down rain in the village of Ashington.

**Author's Note: I hope that you are all holding up okay during this time of great uncertainty. I'm safe at home; I hope you all are, too. Be well, lovelies! If you get a moment to leave a review, please do. Thanks so much for reading.**


	7. Chapter 7

_Ashington, Northumberland_

Bellatrix gazed up at the plain house, even simpler than the one Lord Voldemort lived in. The red brick was slightly crumbling, and the white paint on the front door was chipped. The door led directly out to the walk, and Bellatrix stood near enough to Number Thirteen that she could tell it had no protective wards about it. Of course it didn't; Ted Tonks wasn't old enough to cast them him for his Muggle family.

Bellatrix smirked and aimed her wand at the front door.

" _Alohomora,_ " she whispered, and the door clicked. She turned the knob and pushed the door open, stepping inside as silently as a cat. She left the door open to avoid making more noise, and then she headed for the carpeted stairs. She padded up them, walking on her toes. She hit a squeaky step and pursed her lips, adjusting her grip on her wand. A dog appeared at the top of the stairs all of a sudden, and Bellatrix could see the rap scrabble mutt open its mouth to bark. She jabbed her wand forward and hissed,

" _Stupefy!"_

The dog flew backward with a flash of blue light, landing unconscious on the ground. Bellatrix dashed up to the top of the stairs then, and she encountered three bedrooms. She suddenly realised that she wasn't sure what Ted Tonks looked like, and then a thought occurred to her - she'd kill them all.

She went running into one bedroom, and a teenager-sized figure grumbled and rolled in a small bed. Bellatrix felt her eyes go wide and her heart race as she aimed her wand at the figure and said with all the confidence she'd never known herself to possess,

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

There was a blinding flash of jade green light, and the figure in the bed jolted and then went very still. Bellatrix considered that she had just committed murder, and she laughed just a little. Then her laugh grew and grew until she was cackling.

"Davey?" called a voice, and Bellatrix whirled around. She snarled and walked back out onto the first floor landing. A Muggle woman in a nightgown was coming out of a bedroom, and she demanded,

"Who the blazes are you?"

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ Bellatrix yelled. A man appeared in the bedroom door and screamed,

"Susan!"

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ Bellatrix was breathless now, and when she shut her eyes for a moment, all she could see was the green light of her Killing Curses blazing in the air. She sighed and smiled, and then she heard a voice crackle,

" _Stupefy!"_

Bellatrix whirled and ducked, and the spell intended for her smacked into the wall behind her. She laughed maliciously at the wand-wielding Ted Tonks, who had come onto the dark landing and was staring right at Bellatrix with fear in his wide eyes. Bellatrix giggled,

" _Expelliarmus._ "

Ted's wand came soaring through the air, flipping end over end until Bellatrix caught it in one hand. She used both hands to snap it, and she tossed the pieces to the ground. Ted made a move toward the stairs, but just as he approached them, Bellatrix pointed her wand at her back and said firmly,

"And you'll never see Andromeda again, Mr Tonks. _Avada Kedavra._ "

There was another telltale blinding green light, and then Ted went tumbling down the stairs. He lay at the bottom in an ungraceful heap. Bellatrix took a shaking breath to steady herself, her wand still aimed ahead of her. She finally lowered her wand and surveyed the damage. Ted Tonks was dead at the bottom of the stairs. His brother was dead in his bed. His parents were dead on the floor near their bedroom. And the dog was Stunned.

One by one, Bellatrix Vanished the bodies. She left their beds unmade, and she Obliviated the dog. She wasn't very skilled at wiping animal memories, so she figured the dog would probably never walk straight again. But the dog was truly innocent, unlike the Muggles and the Mudblood she'd murdered. The poor little creature didn't deserve death the way the Tonkses had.

She made her way down the stairs and Scoured her footprints behind her as she went. She Vanished Ted Tonks' body and then Scoured her footprints and her fingerprints from the doorway. Then she whirled hard to her right and Disapparated, and when she came to in her bedroom, she burrowed her face in the pillows on her bed and laughed uproariously, her wicked amusement muted by the fabric.

* * *

"Bellatrix, Jessamyn will be here in five minutes to take over for you. I want you to finish bandaging Mr Herringbone's burns before you leave."

"Yes, Madam Carte," Bellatrix said. She nodded and made her way to Bed Three, where Mr Herringbone was lying on his back and had his eyes shut. His arms were already bandaged; he'd been badly burned when his cauldron had exploded.

"Mr Herringbone," called Bellatrix, and the wizened old man opened his eyes to look at Bellatrix.

"Here to torture me by changing my dressings?"

"Well, I'll try not to torture you," Bellatrix laughed softly. She went into the cupboard beside Mr Herringbone's bed and pulled out Burn Salve and bandages and clips. She spent five minutes unwrapping the bandages on his arms, Scouring the burn tissue, gently daubing on Burn Salve, and re-wrapping the wounds. She clipped the bandages shut and murmured,

"There we are, Mr Herringbone, all better."

"Bellatrix, I'm here," said Jessamyn from behind Bellatrix. She nodded and said,

"Can I get you anything else, Mr Herringbone?"

"No. Thank you."

Bellatrix turned around and smoothed her apron. She smiled a little at Jessamyn and said, "He's all yours. Freshly bandaged. Surgical patient is still sleeping."

"Got it. Thanks." Jessamyn gave Bellatrix a broad grin. "See you."

"See you." Bellatrix took the lift downstairs and Disapparated from the lobby of St Mungo's. When she came to, she was at 21 Bassett Gardens, Isleworth, and she took down the wards around the outside of the house. She walked up to the front door and knocked a few times, and a moment later, the door opened. It happened so quickly that Bellatrix suspected the inhabitant inside had been waiting for her.

"Hello," she said quietly, "Master."

"Bella." He stepped back from the door, and she followed him into the house. He shut the door behind her and asked, "Is it done?"

"Mr and Mrs Tonks and both of their sons are dead, My Lord," Bellatrix affirmed. His dark eyes flashed.

"You killed the whole family."

"Of course; the others would have woken, and -"

He cut her off by snatching at her jaw and crushing his mouth down onto hers. She moaned helplessly at the feel of his lips on hers, and she opened up to him. She backed up a few steps until he had her pressed against the wall in the corridor. She flattened her palms and pressed them to the ugly wallpaper, and then his lips moved to her ear and he hissed,

" _Kayanosss sssiateth nossssoss._ "

"What?" Bellatrix breathlessly tipped her head back and let her eyes flutter shut. Then she remembered something her father had told her about Tom Riddle. He was a Parselmouth - he could talk to snakes. Was this Parseltongue coming out of him in excitement, Bellatrix wondered? She let him kiss her square on the mouth again, and when he pulled away a little, she met his eyes and reached up to stroke at his close-cropped beard.

"And you, Master?" she hummed. His eyes glittered like black diamonds then, and he whispered,

"Today a bus filled with Muggles made too sharp a right turn and tipped. In the crash, the bus started on fire. Twenty-two perished."

"Your work," Bellatrix murmured. "Your beautiful work, My Lord."

He put one hand to her waist and used the other to hold her cheek. " _Our_ work," he said, "is very important. I mean to contact all my old friends with newspaper coverage of the bus and of the disappearance of the Tonkses. People will get the hint that I'm responsible. I won't, of course, confess to anything; I'm not entirely certain who can still be trusted. But the right ones will come running back to me. And it's largely thanks to you, Bella."

"I've already come running to you, Master," she told him, and he bowed down until their foreheads touched.

"You," he said gently, "are my first, best acolyte. In school, the others followed me like a dog follows its owner, but now they'll be useful. They'll fight for me. Still, I know you'll fight harder than the others put together. You, Bellatrix Black, are my most treasured weapon. Beautiful, intelligent, wicked, obedient creature that you are."

He kissed her again, more slowly this time, his hands coursing around her body and his breath mingling with hers. For a long time, they just stood there kissing, until at last he pulled away and Bellatrix's lips felt bruised. She blinked slowly, feeling dizzy, and he tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

"Go home," he told her. "We don't want your sister to suspect anything."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix said, and she pulled back a few steps and Disapparated.


	8. Chapter 8

"His whole family has been murdered!" Andromeda shrieked and stamped her foot in the parlour. She clenched her fists together and brought them up to her face, letting out a mournful cry as she sobbed harder than ever. "Ted! My Ted."

"You don't know that they've been murdered," Narcissa said. "Perhaps they've gone on holiday."

"You stupid girl!" Andromeda yelled. "Their beds weren't made. They left their dog unattended. They didn't _go on holiday._ You little fool!"

"There's no need to be cruel to your sister," said Druella tightly. "If something's happened to the boy, there's every possibility that there were other things at play. For all you know, they owed someone money, and -"

"And so they _vanished?_ " Andromeda scoffed loudly. She pulled out her handkerchief and blew her nose into it. "They just disappeared?"

"Have you seen the _Daily Prophet?_ " Cygnus Black came marching into the parlour. "There was a bus full of Muggles that started on fire, and the Ministry suspects -"

"How could I possibly care about a bus when my Ted is gone?" Andromeda shrieked. Bellatrix glanced at the clock and said,

"I'm working the late shift tonight. I have to go get dressed and ready."

"I'm going to Beatrice's house!" Andromeda yelled. "At least Beatrice will understand why I'm so upset that my Ted has gone missing. None of you care! You're all _awful!_ "

She stamped out towards the foyer of the house, and Bellatrix heard the door slam shut. Once Andromeda had gone, Cygnus looked seriously at Bellatrix and held up his copy of the _Daily Prophet._

"Bellatrix, they're saying that the bus accident was… no accident. In fact, the Ministry is saying that Muggles witnessed a well-dressed man holding out a wand and casting spells. You don't suppose… you don't think it was…"

"How would I know?" Bellatrix asked lightly. She fingered her skirts and shrugged. "It isn't as though I -"

"You know him well," Druella interjected. She stared at her husband for a moment and then asked softly, "Cygnus, you think Tom Riddle is behind all of this? The Mudbloods disappearing? The bus accident?"

"He's capable of everything," Bellatrix sniffed, jutting out her chin. "But the Ministry will never prove anything."

"Perhaps," Cygnus said in a low, fearful sort of voice, "We ought to stay in touch with him better, Druella. After all, we were all friends in school."

"I wouldn't call it friendship," Druella said, and her eyes flashed. "He steered you boys like a ship; you did his bidding."

"But he's got aspirations," Cygnus said, "and it would behoove us to be on the right side once those aspirations take flight."

"I don't doubt for a moment that Tom Riddle -"

"Lord Voldemort," Bellatrix corrected, and her mother's face went red. She nodded.

"I don't doubt that Lord Voldemort could do these things. What else has he got planned?"

"I think you ought to let him explain to you what he's got planned for wizarding Britain," Bellatrix said. "Have him over for dinner and let him tell you all about it. Will you?"

"I wouldn't know where to send an owl to invite him," Druella fretted, and Bellatrix smirked.

"21 Bassett Gardens, Isleworth."

Cygnus' eyebrows furrowed deeply. "How do you know that?"

Bellatrix lowered her gaze and muttered, "As you say, I know him well."

"Well, then, perhaps there is no need for an owl," said Druella. "Perhaps you could invite him yourself, Bellatrix."

"I'd be happy to," Bellatrix nodded. "Now, I really must get dressed and go to work."

She made her way out of the sitting room and towards the stairs, and as she started to climb, her mother called after her,

"Bellatrix, stay safe."

Bellatrix gazed at her mother, who gave her a sombre sort of look. She was afraid, Bellatrix realised. She and Cygnus were both terribly afraid of Lord Voldemort. They knew that he was behind these attacks. They'd known him when he'd been the leader of the gang at Hogwarts. They knew what he was capable of doing, and they knew that he was ambitious beyond measure. They wanted back into his inner circle; they wanted to be a part of whatever movement he formed. But they were afraid.

So Bellatrix just smiled at her mother and said lightly, "Don't worry, Mum. All's well."

* * *

"Did you hear?" asked Jessamyn at the end of Bellatrix's shift. Bellatrix pulled away from the patient she'd been attending to, a man who had overdosed on Invigoration Draught and was tachycardic with elevated blood pressure.

"Jessamyn will be right with you, Mr Darling," said Bellatrix, and Jessamyn asked furtively,

"He's stable?"

"He's fine," Bellatrix nodded. "He's been given Draught of Peace to counteract the overdose; his vitals have normalised. What were you on about?"

"The _Daily Prophet!_ " Jessamyn exclaimed. "A family of Muggles and their Muggle-born son, called Ted Tonks, have disappeared! It's suspected they've been murdered. And then there's the bus! A wizard was seen casting spells upon it."

"Did the newspapers say what the wizard looked like?" Bellatrix asked, and Jessamyn frowned.

"It said… erm… that he was a red-haired wizard with a thin mustache and glasses. Why?"

"Just thinking who would have done such a thing," Bellatrix said lightly, shrugging. She thought then that Voldemort had been quite clever, Transfiguring his features before he'd attacked the bus. She felt a sudden urge to be near him, to touch him, to kiss him.

"You can go," Jessamyn said. Bellatrix looked at the clock and realised it was six o'clock in the morning. She couldn't go to his house right now, could she?

There was only one way to find out how angry he'd be to see her this early.

Bellatrix Disapparated from the lobby of St Mungo's and came to outside 21 Bassett Gardens. She sighed as she walked up to his wards. She felt a strange thud, and then she realised that she'd passed through the protective enchantments without any trouble. Had he used powerful magic to grant her easy entry? She had asked him to be her master; he had called her his first acolyte. Had he made it easier for her to come see him? She smiled at that thought, her stomach fluttering. She walked up to the door, straightening the woolen skirts of her Mediwitch uniform, and she knocked firmly on the door.

The grey light of a cloudy dawn surrounded her, and she looked around to see that there was no action on the street. Everyone, it seemed, was still sleeping. A Muggle automobile puttered by slowly; someone was probably on their way to an early clock-in.

Suddenly the door to Number 21 opened, and Bellatrix whirled back to see Voldemort standing before her, bleary-eyed and scruffy. His thinning hair was mussed from sleep, and he wore black flannel pyjamas. He stared at Bellatrix, his eyes going up and down her form.

"Erm… good morning, Master," Bellatrix said, and Voldemort's eyes flashed wildly. He huffed a breath and said softly,

"I confess I was not expecting you at this hour. You'll forgive my appearance."

She smirked a little, for she found him ridiculously attractive standing before her in pyjamas, with sleep all over him. She sighed and asked,

"Would you like to come over for dinner, Master?"

"Yes. But first, I'd like for you to come inside." He raised his eyebrows, and Bellatrix nervously followed him into the house. He shut the door behind her and asked lightly, "Breakfast?"

"Erm… I ate a few hours ago at the hospital, My Lord. Thank you."

"So you're rejecting my eggs-on-toast, then?" He curled up half his mouth as he glanced over his shoulder on his way to the kitchen. Bellatrix scoffed and folded her hands as she followed him.

"One egg on one piece of toast wouldn't go amiss, Master."

"How did your sister Andromeda take to the news of the Tonks boy's disappearance?"

"She screamed and ran away from the house, My Lord," Bellatrix said. "She went to a Mudblood friend's house. I don't know when she'll be back. She's very upset. But my parents suspect you're behind both the bus and the Mudbloods."

"Do they?" Voldemort asked lightly. He put a frying pan on his stove and opened a cupboard, pulling out a dozen eggs. He tossed them toward the frying pan, and Bellatrix watched in wonder as the eggs stopped soaring, cracked over the pan, and the shells Vanished. Voldemort extended his hand, and the eggs started sizzling at once. He opened a paper package of bread and pulled out a few slices, then set them on two plates and waved his hand over them. Bellatrix watched them darken, as if they were toasting on command. That was exactly what was happening, she realised. His wandless magic was so powerful that he could whip up food like it was nothing at all. Bellatrix was breathless as Voldemort wandlessly Summoned pumpkin juice and poured it into two glasses. He finally looked a little tired, and he muttered,

"Wand's upstairs. I knew it was you, or I'd have brought it down."

"You are incredible," Bellatrix breathed. "Your magic is so, so strong."

"Tell me more about your parents," Voldemort commanded, swishing his hand and Banishing the plates and of toast and eggs to the table. He picked up the two glasses of juice and walked over to the table, sitting and gesturing for Bellatrix to do the same.

"Well," Bellatrix began, "It's obvious that they're terrified of you. But it's also obvious that they want back into your good graces, because they know what you can do."

"See? My old friends will come groveling back to me," Voldemort smirked. "Dinner, then. When?"

"Oh. Erm. My mother didn't specify. Tonight, I suppose?" Bellatrix suggested.

"You'll need to rest before then," Voldemort pointed out, and Bellatrix nodded.

"I'll go home and sleep, My Lord."

"I was up until half-past three," said Voldemort, and suddenly Bellatrix felt terrible about waking him so early. But Voldemort said to her, "I'd like you to stay here and rest with me."

"Really?" Bellatrix picked up her toast and egg and took a bite. She swigged down some pumpkin juice and felt like a fool as she realised how attracted she was to him.

Fifteen minutes later, they'd finished eating, and Voldemort took Bellatrix's hand, mumbling,

"I'll get the dishes later. Too tired at the moment."

"Allow me, My Lord," Bellatrix took out her wand and aimed it at the dishes. " _Tergeo. Scourgify._ " She Banished the dishes back to the cupboards, and then she felt Voldemort's hand between her shoulder blades.

"I like the sight of you with a wand in your hand," he murmured. "It reminds me of what you've done for me. Multiplying Flobberworms. Murdering Mudbloods. Mmm. What a fine servant you are. Let's go upstairs."

She followed him up the flight of stairs, wondering whether they were going to _kiss without clothes_ like they'd done before. But Voldemort said softly from above Bellatrix,

"Clothes on this time. I'm tired."

He'd said that a few times now, that he was very tired, and Bellatrix wondered whether something had happened to keep him awake. She fretted over him, she thought. She wanted him to be healthy and happy.

"I knew you were at work," he said, reaching the top of the stairs, "and I was… preoccupied."

"Preoccupied," she repeated as they stepped into the peasant's bedroom where he slept. His bed was rumpled; the homespun quilt was peeled back and the sheets were wrinkled. Voldemort gestured to the bed and said quietly,

"Come lie down with me."

Bellatrix wordlessly pulled her matron's cap off her head and set it on the banged-up wooden table beside the bed. She pulled the pins from her hair and shook her curls loose, and she watched Voldemort lick his lips slowly. She untied her apron and folded it, setting it beside her cap. She stepped out of her ankle boots and then climbed into the bed, covering herself with his quilt. Voldemort climbed into the bed beside her and pulled her up against him. She curled one leg over his thighs and tossed an arm across his chest. She nestled her face against his shoulder, and she watched him shut his eyes as he whispered,

"Tell me what you felt when you killed for the first time, Bellatrix."

"Power," she said at once. "I felt powerful."

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked, and she nodded against him.

"Very much."

"Do you want to do it again?"

"I do," she replied. "Over and over. For you."

"Bella." She heard him gulp, saw his throat bob, and he stroked at her hair with shaking fingers. "What you do to me…"

"What have I done, Master?" Bellatrix worried. She pushed herself up on one elbow and stared down at him, and his eyes blinked a few times.

"I remember you talking to me for days," he said gently. "Telling me about your family, about school, about Titus Avery. I feel as though I know you very well now."

"I think you do, My Lord," Bellatrix said. Voldemort let out a quivering breath and added,

"You've killed for me. With delight. You felt joy, murdering on my orders."

"And I'll do it again, as soon as you bid me to," Bellatrix hummed.

"Bella," Voldemort choked out, and she realised then that he wanted her. She reached beneath the blankets and dragged her fingertips over his erection in his pyjama trousers, and she hummed,

"I'll murder anyone you want me to."

"Merlin's beard. Touch me," he ordered her. She slid her hand into his trousers and stroked at his cock with a closed fist. She dragged her thumb over his tip and whispered,

"Master…"

When he came, groaning loudly and arching his back, it made an enormous mess, but neither of them really cared. Bellatrix reached for her wand and Siphoned up the sticky disaster on her hand and in his trousers, and he said softly,

"Do you want me to…?"

"I'm all right, My Lord," Bellatrix insisted, though she was throbbing and soaked between her legs. She curled back up against Voldemort and said to him, "I just want to lie here with you. To be held by you."

"Dinner at your parents' house," he confirmed, "but we'll just sleep for a bit first, shall we?"

She kissed his shoulder and settled back down, drifting off to sleep as she thought to herself that he was the most magnificent wizard on Earth.

"Bellatrix," he whispered, just before she lost herself to sleep. She nodded against him, and she could have sworn he kissed her forehead and said gently, " _My_ Bellatrix. Sleep."

**Author's Note: I will be alternating updates between my** _**Victoria** _ **story and this one until both are done. Thanks for your patience and for reading and reviewing.**


	9. Chapter 9

She woke beside him and just lay in silence for an hour.

She felt the warmth of him through his pyjamas. She felt his breathing, slow and steady, beneath her chest and arm. He sighed every now and then and pet her hair, and at long last he murmured,

"Go home and tell your parents I shall be there for dinner at seven."

"Yes, Master."

Bellatrix pushed herself up onto an elbow, and Voldemort rubbed at her arm with his fingertips. He blinked once and then whispered,

"Perfect."

"My Lord," she demurred, bowing her head. She smiled weakly and reached down to stroke at his close-cropped beard. "I want to kill for you again. When can I do so?"

"Bella." He reached to cup her jaw in his hand and muttered, "Soon. We'll do it together. We'll take out some Muggles together."

"That sounds like great fun," Bellatrix grinned. Voldemort shut his eyes and let his lips part.

"Go home," he said again. "I'll be there at seven."

"What if Andromeda is there?" Bellatrix asked. Voldemort smirked.

"I hope she is."

* * *

Andromeda, as it happened, was a dissolved mess in the sitting room when Bellatrix got home. Her parents gave Bellatrix quite a look, for she showed up hours after leaving work, in a rumpled uniform, her hair down, and it was obvious where she'd been. Still, they were relieved to hear that Voldemort was coming for dinner. Druella began to fret about the cleanliness of the house, barking orders at the House-Elf to pick up and dust.

Bellatrix went upstairs and changed out of her Mediwitch uniform. She put on a black sundress and flat black satin shoes, combing through her curls and leaving them loose. She thought about applying makeup, but instead she left her face plain. She didn't want to look like she was trying too hard to impress him. If he wanted her, he should want her because she'd killed for him, not because she had nice lipstick.

"It's five minutes to seven!" exclaimed Narcissa from the doorway of Bellatrix's room. "Do I look all right?"

She held her hands out, and Bellatrix smirked at her little sister. "He's not coming to judge our family, Cissy. He's just coming as a guest, to discuss his plans for wizarding Britain."

"I am _not_ staying," Andromeda hissed from behind Narcissa. "I won't dine with that Pureblood fetishist."

"Pureblood fetishist?" Bellatrix repeated, raising her eyebrows. "I think you're just upset about the Muggles and their son going on holiday."

"They've been _killed!_ " Andromeda shrieked, and suddenly Druella's voice called from downstairs,

"Andromeda Black, if you don't want to stay for dinner, then leave."

"Yes, do leave," Narcissa said, a bit harshly. "You'll just ruin the meal with your crying."

"None of you understand!" Andromeda whined. She stamped her foot and whirled, and Bellatrix heard her feet clamoring down the stairs. The front door opened and slammed shut, and Bellatrix shrugged at Narcissa.

"She's just distraught because her Mudblood's gone."

"Bellatrix," said Narcissa carefully, stepping into Bellatrix's room, "you don't know anything about what happened to the Tonkses, do you?"

"Why would I know anything?" Bellatrix asked dully. Narcissa chewed her lip and said,

"Because Papa thinks that _he_ \- Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort - had something to do with these attacks. And you know him so well. Have you got any idea…?"

Bellatrix studied her sister's face and then stoically shook her head. "No."

"Girls! Downstairs! Now!" shouted Druella from the bottom of the staircase. Bellatrix laced her arm through Narcissa's and led her little sister down the broad stairs. Just as they were reaching the bottom, there was knocking on the door, and Bellatrix froze. The House Elf rushed over to open the door, and Bellatrix chomped her lip. The door opened, and Lord Voldemort stood there in black cotton and wool robes. He was simply but elegantly dressed, and it looked like he'd trimmed his beard and hair. Bellatrix remembered doing that for him, cleaning him up and neatening his body for him. She shivered at the memory of taking care of him, of talking to him whilst he slept.

"My Lord," breathed Bellatrix as Voldemort stepped into the house. "Welcome to our home."

"Bella," he said quietly, and his eyes met hers. He stared at her as Druella and Cygnus rushed up to him. He kept looking right at Bellatrix as Druella said nervously,

"Hello, sir. Thank you so much for coming to dine."

"My pleasure, Druella. It's been a long twenty-five years since we were all at school, hasn't it? Here's some wine."

He finally tore his eyes off of Bellatrix and passed over a bottle of Elf-Made wine to Druella.

"Thank you kindly, sir," Druella gushed. "Do come into the dining room. Here. Serve this with the meal."

She shoved the wine at the House-Elf, who nearly toppled over from the force of the wine being thrust into its arms. Bellatrix and Narcissa followed Druella and Cygnus toward the dining room, and Voldemort asked from behind them,

"Is Andromeda joining us tonight?"

"Erm…" Cygnus sounded embarrassed. "Andromeda's rather… _off._ You see, she had something of a shameful attachment to the Mudblood who vanished. Ted Tonks."

"An attachment?" Voldemort asked lightly as they walked into the dining room. "What sort of attachment?"

"She was dating him. Seriously," Narcissa blurted, and Cygnus and Druella shot her harsh looks. Voldemort sighed and licked his lips, pulling out the chair at the head of the table.

"That _is_ shameful. But at least the boy is gone now."

"A relief," Cygnus said seriously. He and Voldemort locked gazes for a moment, and then Voldemort said quietly,

"I wouldn't tell you if I knew, Cygnus."

Bellatrix gulped. Narcissa looked afraid. Druella cleared her throat and sat, and the others did the same. Suddenly bowls of seafood stew appeared on the table in front of each place setting, and Voldemort picked up his glass of wine that had filled itself.

"To the Black family," he said. "Old friends and new." His eyes went from Cygnus and Druella to Bellatrix. "May our friendships continue to grow."

"Hear, hear," said Cygnus. Everyone drank, and as Bellatrix sipped at her wine, she stared at Voldemort. She felt a little buzz inside her skull, and she knew he was in her mind. Suddenly an image was yanked forth - Bellatrix carefully using her wand to Scour Voldemort's body clean whilst he was in his coma. She sat beside his unmoving form and began to go on and on about Titus Malfoy. Voldemort sniffed at the table, and the buzzing sensation subsided.

"So," Druella said as they ate their seafood stew, "Do tell us, _Lord Voldemort_ , what you have in mind for wizarding Britain. I hear from my daughter that you've got quite the ambition."

Voldemort cleared his throat and set down his spoon. He looked from Cygnus to Druella and then said,

"My vision for the wizarding world is simple, but won't be easy to attain. It all boils down to this. Witches and Wizards are the superior Beings, and those with the purest blood are the most superior of all. Mudbloods are thieves; their presence in our society is forgery. Their so-called 'magic' comes through wicked deception and duplicity. The falsehood, the trickery and the cheating of the Mudbloods must be eradicated from wizarding society."

"And how do you mean to eradicate the threat of Mudbloods?" asked Cygnus, frowning and folding his hands. Voldemort pinched his lips.

"Wand seizures. Registrations. Imprisonment of anyone who attempts to perform magic as a Mudblood. More than that."

"You would need the cooperation of the Ministry of Magic, wouldn't you?" asked Druella. Narcissa dared to chime in,

"With all the Rappaport's Law nonsense in America, this seems all reversed of what the Ministry is trying to do these days."

"We would begin by planting our allies in every Ministry department," Voldemort said tightly. "Eventually, the Ministry would be overthrown. Then our plans would be implemented, one step at a time. No Mudbloods at Hogwarts. A new department to track them. Promotion of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Programmes to encourage Half-Bloods to marry and produce new, lesser Purebloods. All of it could happen. I'm confident."

"And you're the one to lead this charge?" Druella asked, a bit sceptically. Voldemort chewed his lip and then said in a low, sombre voice,

"You knew me in school, Druella. You know what I'm capable of. Do you doubt that I could achieve these aims?"

"Not at all," whispered Druella. Her eyes appeared to well, as if she were remembering horrible deeds from their past. "I think you're remarkably capable."

"Well, I, for one, am all for this plan," said Bellatrix stoutly. "My Lord, I shall gladly do anything you ask of me to help see your vision come to fruition."

"I know," Voldemort nodded. "You are a good and loyal soldier already, Bella."

Druella and Cygnus looked a bit surprised, and Cygnus confirmed,

"You two met… when you were a patient at St Mungo's?"

"Bellatrix cared for me after an accident with a poison," Voldemort said, tipping his chin up. "She is a remarkable Mediwitch, your daughter."

The rest of the meal was completed in relative quiet, with little discussions here and there as Voldemort affirmed that he'd spent a good deal of time on the Continent, as Druella and Cygnus talked about their family. Andromeda didn't come up in conversation, because nobody really wanted to talk about her.

By the time chocolate mousse was served for dessert, Bellatrix felt her stomach fluttering. She'd touched Voldemort earlier today; she'd brought him to completion. She wanted him again, she thought. She wanted his hands on her once more.

"You'll be at the Averys' this Saturday, won't you?" asked Cygnus. "It'll be wonderful to get you back with everyone."

"The Averys'," repeated Voldemort, and his cheeks coloured as he coughed into a fist. "Erm… no, I didn't receive an invitation. Is it a wedding?"

"Oh." Cygnus looked abashed. "Germain Avery hosts a summer garden party every July. He has for years now. I'm surprised he didn't… I do beg your pardon."

Bellatrix stared wide-eyed at Voldemort, who was friends with Germain Avery's cousin Rickard. Voldemort cleared his throat. "No matter. I'll write to Germain and ask if I might come. Just to see all the old crowd… you know, since there have been some recent developments."

The bus attack and the disappearance of the Tonkses, he meant. Voldemort licked his lips, still looking a little embarrassed, and eyed Bellatrix.

"You'll be at this garden party, I take it."

"No, My Lord." She shook her head. "I have to work."

"I told you to ask for that day off," complained Druella. "This is an important social event."

"Patients don't stop needing care because there are social events," Bellatrix huffed. "I did ask for the day off. It was denied."

There was silence at the table then, and finally Voldemort said,

"It's no matter. Perhaps you could host a get-together, Cygnus. Avery, Nott, Mulciber, Crabbe, Goyle. Yaxley, Malfoy. The old gang. With me as the guest of honour. I would like to continue our conversation about wizarding Britain's future."

"I'll get something planned, sir," Cygnus nodded. Dessert was over then, and Bellatrix rushed to say,

"I'll show you out, My Lord."

Voldemort stood and stared right into her eyes as Druella said breathlessly,

"So good of you to come, sir. It was a pleasure having you."

"Thank you for dinner," Voldemort nodded, still staring at Bellatrix. She walked over to his side of the table and then led him out of the dining room. They reached the front door, having left the others behind, and he took her face in his hands. He gazed down at her and shrugged.

"You can't get off work for that damned party?"

"I tried, Master," Bellatrix whispered. "Madam Carte said no."

"Because if you could get off work," Voldemort hummed, "I could go with you. As your date."

"And that would do you well, wouldn't it?" Bellatrix asked. "It would allow you to mingle with your old friends."

"Friends." He narrowed his eyes. "They were my lackies. I want them back."

"I could Confound Madam Carte," Bellatrix said, "and convince her to give me the day off."

"Do it," Voldemort hissed. "I want to be at that garden party."

"Yes, Master," Bellatrix nodded. "Thank you for coming to dinner."

"Saturday," he said. "Come to my house before the party and we'll go together."

She smiled up at him, and his hands tightened on her cheeks. He glanced towards the dining room, making sure no one was watching, and then he bent and kissed her hard on the lips.

Then he drew away from her, taking a few steps back, and he Disapparated.

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading. Please do review.**


	10. Chapter 10

"Here's your Decalcification Syrup, Mr Grought," said Bellatrix merrily as she strode over to the bed. "Did you hear the Healer? He says that you can go home tomorrow if you stay stable."

"Home," Mr Grought nodded, smiling weakly. "Yes. I am weary of being in hospital, though you've all taken such fine care of me."

Bellatrix smiled and uncorked the bottle of Decalcification Syrup. She poured out a spoonful and dosed Mr Grought, who winced at the bitter flavour. She handed him a glass of water to wash away the taste, and he gratefully accepted. Bellatrix corked the bottle and set it down with her spoon. She put the eartips of her stethoscope in and tapped the bell, which she then placed on Mr Grought's chest. She listened to his breathing, hearing far less of a rattle than had been there when he'd first come in. His lungs were steadily decalcifying - they'd been damaged by a potion. Now his breathing was nearly normal again, and Bellatrix nodded as she took out the eartips. She pressed her fingers to Mr Grought's wrist and felt for a pulse, and when she perceived it, steady and sure, she took a step back.

"You seem all right to me, sir."

"Did you hear the awful news?" asked Mr Grought. "About that poor family? About the bus full of Muggles? Terrible, isn't it? Who would do such a thing?"

"Who, indeed?" Bellatrix puffed, putting her hands on her hips. "Can I get you anything else, Mr Grought?"

"I just think it's horrendous," the old man continued. "Burning those Muggles alive. Today's _Daily Prophet_ said they haven't got any idea who did it, because the description was a red-haired man with a mustache. The only lead they've got is that the man had a pale wand. But loads of us have pale wands; mine's yew and I certainly didn't do it."

"Right. You've been in here," Bellatrix chuckled. She patted Mr Grought's knee through his blanket and said, "I don't suppose you've been crashing any buses."

"I hardly think it's a matter for laughter," said Mr Grought, and Bellatrix stilled her face. She stared at the older wizard, who scowled and declared, "It's a damned tragedy. All those lives lost. That family gone. The world is mad. I remember things like this, from the days of Grindelwald. I thought we'd passed that as a society."

"Perhaps," Bellatrix whispered, "it's just beginning. After all, we've no idea who did it."

"I don't need anything else, girl. You can go." Mr Grought seemed uneasy, but Bellatrix just gave him a little curtsy and turned to walk away. She pulled out her wand and walked casually with it at her side until she reached the bed where Madam Carte was fixing a patient's pillow.

"Yes, Bellatrix?" Madam Carte seemed impatient. Bellatrix gave her a contented little smile and asked,

"Madam Carte, when you have a moment, may I discuss a patient with you?"

"Oh. Of course. Are you quite comfortable, Mrs O'Leary?" asked Madam Carte.

"What?" exclaimed ancient Mrs O'Leary, and Madam Carte pinched her lips and cleared her throat before yelling,

"Is that pillow better for you, Mrs O'Leary?"

"Oh! Quite so!"

Bellatrix stifled a smile as Madam Carte patted Mrs O'Leary on the shoulder and walked towards Bellatrix. The two of them headed to the window at the end of the ward, the window that looked out onto the London street.

"Yes, Bellatrix?" Madam Carte clipped. Bellatrix gave her a warm look and said,

"Mr Grought's breathing is much improved. I do think the Decalcification Syrup has done its work."

"Good. Glad to hear that. Anything else?"

"Oh, erm… do you recall how I asked you for the day off on Saturday?" Bellatrix asked, and Madam Carte narrowed her eyes.

"As I told you, Penelope can't come in that day. I'm afraid you'll have to work it."

"Right." Bellatrix flicked her wand toward Madam Carte and nonverbally incanted, _Confundo!_

Madam Carte trembled where she stood, vibrating just a little. Bellatrix concentrated hard on what she wanted, and then Madam Carte said,

"Oh, do you know… Penelope owes me a favour. I did give her the day off for her cousin's wedding last month. I'll tell her she'll simply have to work things out and come in. You've been doing so well since starting here, Bellatrix. Certainly, you may have Saturday off."

"Thank you so very much, Madam Carte." Bellatrix tipped her wand up again and thought, _Confundo!_ She reinforced the spell so that it would hold, and she sighed. "Well, I'm off to attend to the new burn patient who's come in. Acid all over the arms; it's horrid. Let me go get the Burn Salve."

"Good day, Bellatrix." Madam Carte turned on her foot and strode away, and Bellatrix smirked to herself.

* * *

Bellatrix came to outside of 21 Bassett Gardens in Isleworth and marched straight up to the door. She raised her hand to knock, but then hesitated. She glanced down at herself; did she look all right? She'd been forced by her mother to wear something _summery_ , and so Bellatrix was in a cream-coloured lace dress with a pale green sash around her waist. She'd done up her hair in milkmaid braids and had applied coral-hued lipstick and rouge. She felt rather foolish, for she tended toward dark colours in clothing. And she'd let Narcissa do her hair, for the younger sister had practically insisted. Bellatrix huffed a breath and decided it was too late to do anything about how she looked. She knocked firmly on the door, and her heart accelerated in her chest.

A few moments later, the door opened, and Lord Voldemort stood before her in lightweight linen robes of emerald green. He raised his eyebrows as he surveyed Bellatrix from top to bottom, meeting her eyes as he murmured,

"Hello."

"You don't like it. Neither do I," Bellatrix laughed, scratching at her temple. Voldemort licked his lips and admitted,

"I prefer your hair down, I'll admit. But no matter. I'll take it down later."

Bellatrix felt her eyes go wide. She stared at him in shock, and he curled up half his mouth.

"Now," he said, "are you fully prepared to go to this garden party with me as your date? I decided not to write to Avery asking to come; it felt cloying and desperate and I didn't care for the sensation."

"Well, we're all allowed dates," Bellatrix pointed out, "and I scarcely think Mr Avery will be offended if I bring _you._ "

"You are of the purest blood," Voldemort pointed out, tipping his head. "When I am in control, it is people like you who will be at the apex."

"Beneath you, though," Bellatrix whispered, and he smiled.

"Come inside; we'll go by Side-Along from in here."

"Yes, Master." Bellatrix obediently followed him into the house and down the corridor a little. He took her shoulders in his hands and pressed her against the ugly wallpaper, bending down and breathing in.

"You smell like expensive perfume," he mumbled against her neck. "You're all dolled up."

"Just trying to be a society girl," Bellatrix joked breathlessly. He touched his lips to her neck and wondered,

"What if I marked you up before I took you to the party? What if I bruised up your neck with vicious kisses?"

"You can do whatever you want to me, Master," Bellatrix told him. "You could take me upstairs; we could be late."

"No. You've put all this effort into looking like a porcelain doll," said Voldemort, bringing his lips to her forehead. "I won't muss you until later."

"Later." It was the second time he'd spoken of bringing her back here, and her eyelids fluttered shut with anticipation. "What will you do to me later, Master?"

"All manner of things." He pressed his lips to her cheekbone and then put them beside her ear as he asked, "What did you do with Titus Malfoy?"

Bellatrix felt her cheeks go hot, embarrassed by the question. She gulped and pressed her palms against the wallpaper as she whispered,

"Touched. Kissed. He gave me flowers and sweets and such. He told me he loved me. He lied."

"No. He didn't. That boy did love you," Voldemort huffed against her neck. "I looked into his mind at his wedding."

"Of course you did," Bellatrix grinned. Then she felt awfully sad, thinking about the way Titus had kissed her and held her and promised her they'd be married. She shut her eyes and felt tears well, and then Voldemort pulled back and said gruffly,

"You've still got feelings for him."

"It's too late; he married the Hufflepuff bitch," Bellatrix complained. She swiped at her eyes and shook her head. "We should go to the garden party, My Lord."

He stared at her for a long moment, and she felt the familiar buzz of his intrusion in her mind. Suddenly a vivid image was pulled forth - Bellatrix sobbing in her bed in the Slytherin dormitory when she'd learnt that Titus had cheated on her. Voldemort's buzzing Legilimency subsided, and he whispered,

"There would be only you for me."

Bellatrix's lips fell open. She shook her head, confused, and he specified tightly,

"You're mine. You're my servant. And it's no secret that I crave you, that I care for you. There would only be you in my mind, you understand."

She frowned. Was he asking her to date him? She swallowed hard and licked her coral lip.

"You're my date today," she said, and he nodded.

"I should like to accompany you to more social events, Miss Black."

"So that you can see your old friends," she mumbled, but he shook his head and said,

"So that you and I would be seen together. Now, we really are going to be late to the Averys'. Let's go."

* * *

"Thirsty again. What would you like to drink?" asked Voldemort as they milled at the party. The hired strings had struck up a lively tune, and Bellatrix gave him a serious look.

"Why don't I get the drinks, Master?" she asked. "You go find your friends."

He smirked at her and nodded. "Firewhisky for me."

Bellatrix turned and walked away, off to the bar where a House-Elf was mixing drinks. Bellatrix ordered herself a Lavender Slip-Up and got Voldemort's Firewhisky, and when she found him again, he was talking with Germain Avery - the cousin of Voldemort's friend Rickard - and Abraxas Malfoy. Bellatrix hesitated before walking up to them, feeling uncertain about approaching Titus' father. But she finally gathered the courage to walk up and hold out Voldemort's third firewhisky of the party, saying quietly,

"Your drink."

"Thank you, Bella," said Voldemort warmly. He took the firewhisky and turned to the other wizards. "As I was saying, what happened with that bus and that family needs to be the birth of something bigger. We all know that purest blood must triumph. We all know that Mudbloods are a scourge on our society."

"Yes, but do we advocate wholesale slaying of Muggles?" asked Avery, sipping his own drink. Abraxas Malfoy looked Bellatrix up and down and flashed her a sour little smile. Bellatrix gulped.

"Muggles are no better than animals," Voldemort said sharply. "They've no magic. They're just beasts, destroying their planet with pollution, killing one another with knives and guns, dirty. Filthy. And there are hundreds of them for every one of us. They're a plague on the Earth. This planet should belong to the magical."

"You're quite serious about all this," Avery noted. Mr Malfoy chimed in,

"I like the sound of it." He sipped his own firewhisky and added, "I like the idea of a world where we're not hiding because we're in charge of things. I like the idea of pure blood being appreciated."

"As do I," nodded Avery. "But this sounds dangerous. How could it come to be?"

"I'll need friends," Voldemort shrugged. "Good friends. Lots of friends. Hmm?"

"Cygnus says he's hosting a dinner for the old gang so you can explain all of this," Avery said. Then, looking abashed, he admitted, "I'd have invited you to this party, but… well, you know it's a gathering for the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

"My mother was a Gaunt, you'll remember," Voldemort said, chewing his lip. Avery bowed his head and said sincerely,

"I'm very glad you're here now, that you've come with Miss Black."

"As am I," Voldemort nodded. "Bella, come talk with me, will you?"

He put his hand between her shoulders and guided her away, and Bellatrix stared up at him as they reached a quiet spot. He blinked down at her and said,

"Since we got here, I've spoken with Mulciber, Nott, Avery, and Malfoy. Your father's already swayed, and in fact I overheard him discussing all of this with Crabbe and Goyle. So I've done what I came to do."

"Then you'd like to leave?" Bellatrix asked hesitantly. Voldemort shook his head.

"There is yet another mission to accomplish here today."

Bellatrix swept a few stray hairs from her dewy forehead. It was exceptionally warm and sunny at this party, and she felt herself getting a little sunburned. The Averys' garden was beautiful and smelled of flowers, but Bellatrix had already been annoyed by little flies and was taking too much sun. She wouldn't have minded leaving. But instead she asked Voldemort,

"What mission, Master?"

"Do you see that fool over there?" Voldemort gestured with his glass of firewhisky toward where Titus Malfoy and his wife Aster stood in a group, laughing. Bellatrix's stomach churned. She puffed a breath and raised her eyes to Voldemort.

"He's with some of my old school friends. They all took his side."

"Let's go say hello." Voldemort took Bellatrix's hand in his, and she was shocked as he started to pull her toward the group. He wouldn't be doing this, she thought, if he hadn't had so much firewhisky already. He was tipsy, she thought. As she passed Narcissa and her parents, Cygnus' eyes went to where Bellatrix held Voldemort's hand, and Druella touched at her lips in surprise. Bellatrix just walked with Voldemort to the group, and he muttered down to her,

"Say hello, Bella."

"Hello, everyone!" She feigned confidence and happiness as everybody in the cluster turned to look at her. Their eyes flicked back and forth between Bellatrix and Voldemort, and Lucius Malfoy finally said,

"Lord Voldemort, sir. My father speaks highly of you."

"Does he?" Voldemort squeezed at Bellatrix's hand and drank more firewhisky. Bellatrix felt sick. She shut her eyes for a moment and then looked to Titus, who returned her gaze and seemed a little sad.

"Bellatrix, I hear you're working at St Mungo's," said Calliope Crabbe, and Bellatrix nodded.

"I'm a Mediwitch."

"A damned good one," Voldemort confirmed. "Bella and I met when I was her patient."

"Do you date all your patients?" asked Aster Malfoy sharply, and suddenly Calliope giggled. Bellatrix felt so humiliated that for a moment she didn't answer. Her mouth fell open, and her cheeks went hot, and then Voldemort said in a very smooth voice,

"Alas, just the one patient. I woke up wanting her and haven't stopped since. So."

He sipped more firewhisky, and Bellatrix realised he was getting drunk. She gulped hard and said,

"I'm getting sunburned. I think perhaps we should go."

"Yes, you are very pale," said Aster, taking a little draught of her white wine. Bellatrix scowled at the girl Titus had left her for, her eyes welling. But Voldemort leaned down and kissed her burning forehead, whispering,

"I'll put Burn Salve on you when we get home, Bella. Don't worry."

"Forgive me," said Aster, looking right at Voldemort. "I had thought this party was for members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Has Mr Avery changed his policy?"

"Little girl," snarled Voldemort, his playful tone entirely gone and replaced with ice, "You will quickly learn that this orphaned Half-Blood is more powerful than you can imagine. Ask Mummy and Daddy, why don't you? I remember they were terrified of me in school. Absolutely terrified."

Aster's face went red, and she sipped her wine again. Titus put his hand on Aster's shoulder and said,

"Let's go dance, Aster."

The two of them walked off, and Lucius Malfoy said apologetically,

"He'll come around, sir. He doesn't understand… my father and I do, I assure you."

"Yes. I was just talking to your father about my plans," Voldemort said. "He seemed quite smitten by my ideas. Your brother has a lot to learn."

Gardenia Greengrass, who was Aster's sister, said furtively, "So good to see you, Bellatrix. Stay happy and well. Bye."

She turned on a heel and marched quickly away, and Calliope Crabbe shifted on her feet.

"You know, I really do want to go," Bellatrix whispered. "This sunburn is awful."

"Right. Come with me." Voldemort pulled Bellatrix away from the little group, and when they reached a table, he downed the rest of his firewhisky.

"I need another drink," he said, and Bellatrix protested,

"With all due respect, Master, I don't think you do."

"Titus Malfoy is an idiot," he hissed. "He doesn't realise… what he gave up. Who he gave up. And that little wife of his is a snit."

"Well, she doesn't much like me," Bellatrix mumbled. She set down her Lavender Slip-Up and asked, "Would you like to dance?"

"I'm a little unsteady." Voldemort lowered his eyes, seeming to realise just how much he'd had to drink. He visibly gulped and held out a hand, though, and he told Bellatrix, "One dance."

One dance turned into four, as they just kept swaying and moving together out on the grass dance 'floor.' Bellatrix kept flicking her eyes over to Titus and Aster Malfoy, until at last Voldemort snapped,

"Stop looking at them. Look at me. They are your past. I am your future."

Bellatrix raised her eyes to his and tried to breathe. He was so devastatingly handsome, she thought. She wondered what he'd meant earlier. Had he been asking her to be his girlfriend? Had that been it?

"Something like that," Voldemort mumbled. "For now, I'd like to take you home and do all sorts of unspeakable things to you. Things that foolish boy never got the chance to do."

Bellatrix smiled up at him and nodded. "Burn Salve first. I've roasted."

"Don't worry. I'll take care of you," he said softly. He bent down and kissed her forehead, and then he Disapparated straight from the dance floor, taking Bellatrix with him and landing beside his bed in Isleworth.

**Author's Note: Whew! They're getting serious. Now who's ready for a good lemon between these two? Mwah hahaha.**


	11. Chapter 11

" _Accio_ Burn Salve."

Bellatrix stared at Voldemort as he held out his hand. He sighed and gazed back, his arm extended, and a moment later, a small tin came whizzing into the bedroom. Voldemort caught the tin deftly and smirked, tossing it up and catching it.

"You really did get sunburned," he said quietly. Bellatrix smiled meekly, knowing he was still tipsy, and she told him,

"You stood up for me against Aster."

"Aster Malfoy is, as you told her yourself, a nasty whore." Voldemort unscrewed the lid of the tin and instructed Bellatrix, "Come here."

She was already standing close, but she moved closer as she shivered a little. He made her tremble from the inside out, she thought. Voldemort daubed two fingers into the creamy Burn Salve and touched them to Bellatrix's collarbone.

"You're burnt here," he murmured. She stared at him, but his eyes were trained on her skin. He pressed his fingers in smooth sweeps around her decolletage, and it was so erotic Bellatrix lost her breath for a moment. Voldemort dabbed his fingers into the salve again and then brushed them over Bellatrix's cheekbones, nose, and forehead. The salve soaked into her skin, and she could feel the burns subsiding. Voldemort spent another five minutes rubbing Burn Salve all over Bellatrix's arms, shoulders, the back of her neck, and once more on her face and chest. She began to lose herself to the massaging he was doing, to the way he was rubbing at her, and she finally shut her eyes and whispered,

"Master, I want you so badly."

"Do you?"

She opened her eyes to see that his jaw had stiffened, and he screwed shut the lid of the tin in his hands, setting it down on the rickety little table beside the bed. He pushed at Bellatrix's shoulders until she turned around to face away from him, and his fingers started unbuttoning her dress. She let out a quavering breath as he pushed the dress off the front of her shoulders. Then he bent down and whispered into her ear,

"Your burns have faded."

"Thank you." Bellatrix turned her face, and he kissed her gently on the lips. He turned her back around as she slithered out of her cream-coloured lace dress. She asked him softly, "Shall I take off the rest?"

"Yes."

Bellatrix slowly stripped off her bra and knickers, peeling and unhooking until all her garments were on the ground and she'd stepped out of her shoes. Voldemort was still in his flowing robes, and Bellatrix felt the urge to ask him to get naked, too.

"I'm a little drunk," he told her, surveying her nude form. "I've had a lot of firewhisky."

"I don't mind," Bellatrix said. She reached up and unlatched the hooks on the front of Voldemort's emerald robes. He stood tall and licked his lips as she pushed the outer robe off. Her nipples puckered as she began to feel herself come alive undressing him. She wanted this wizard, more sincerely than she'd ever wanted anyone in her life.

"Master," she purred, and she moved on to the buttons going down his front. A few moments later, he'd shoved off his tunic and had unfastened his own trousers. He slid his dragonhide boots off and kicked off his socks, and Bellatrix just stared. His cock was at attention, obviously excited by what they were going to do.

"On the bed," he said gruffly, and Bellatrix obeyed. She would always obey him. She would always do exactly what he demanded of her. She scrambled up onto the bed and instinctively went to all fours. Voldemort grunted and whispered, "Pretty little thing."

He reached to pet at her back, and Bellatrix shuddered. She felt his fingertips dusting from her shoulder blades down to the small of her back, and then he began to caress her backside. Bellatrix let her eyelids flutter shut, and she murmured,

"I like your touch on me."

"Good. I like to touch you," Voldemort said. " _Nongravidare Maxima._ " His contraceptive spell washed over Bellatrix, and she shut her eyes in relief. His fingers moved again, pushing toward her womanhood, and he felt her wetness there. He huffed a breath and confirmed, "You want it this time. Badly."

"Yes, I do," Bellatrix said. He followed her onto the bed then, and she felt the lumpy mattress shifting as he arranged himself. Then she felt the tip of his cock at her entrance, and his hands tightened on her hips. He pushed in in one fluid sweep, and Bellatrix gasped. She arched her back and threw her head back. Voldemort, sheathed inside of her, reached for her hair and began pulling out pins. She heard them _plink, plink, plink_ on the table beside the bed, and then his hands worked to unlace her braids. He dragged his fingers through her thick, curly hair and muttered,

"That's better."

He began to thrust at last, after Bellatrix had spent a long moment with him at rest within her. It felt _so good_ , she thought, to have him moving in and out, in and out, in and out. Every time he thrust in, he buried himself to the hilt, and every time he pulled back, he nearly left her. Filled, stuffed, and then emptied, Bellatrix whined. She began to feel a heat coiling in her lower abdomen, a tense sense of pleasure. Thrusting, pushing, pulling, squeezing. It felt so damned good, and Bellatrix cinched her fingers on the sheets. She adjusted her knees, tipping her hips up and back toward Voldemort with a desperate sense of want.

"Merlin's beard; I can't last with you," Voldemort complained, and Bellatrix wondered what the problem was. He began to speed up his pistoning until he was absolutely pounding into Bellatrix. She collapsed suddenly, falling from all fours down onto her elbows. She pushed her hips more tightly back against him, and he started to grind in just the right way. His vicious thrusting was now so vigorous that Bellatrix could hardly breathe. She let out a continuous moan and reached to hold the iron frame of the bed. Her body rocked back and forth as he pushed into her and pulled out again, so deeply, so quickly, so intensely. Finally Bellatrix felt herself pass the point of no return, a familiar sensation from touching herself. She knew her orgasm was steaming toward her like a freight train, but she still cried out when it hit her. As she contracted around Voldemort's cock, her ears rang and she saw spots behind her eyes. She puffed for air and whispered against the mattress,

"My Lord, My Lord, My Lord…"

"Agh. Bellatrix." Voldemort's fingers sank deeply into her buttocks, and he jerked wildly against her. His hips were moving less steadily now, less rhythmically. He just banged onto her about ten times, his hips slapping her backside as he mumbled a few choice swear words. Finally his hips stilled, and she heard him scoff loudly behind her. He bent down and pushed her hair aside, kissing the back of her neck as she felt his cock twitching and jolting inside of her. He throbbed within her for a long while, until she could feel him starting to soften. Both of them just breathed, long and shaking gasps coming from the both of them.

At last, Voldemort pulled out of Bellatrix and heaved a very deep sigh. He flopped onto his back, and his shining chest heaved. He cast a forearm over his eyes and murmured,

"You're delicious."

Bellatrix laughed a little and rotated toward him. She dragged her fingers over his chest, around the sparse greying hair and the skin slick with sweat. She kissed him there, and she watched his eyes shut.

"Bellatrix," he said quietly, "Stay the night. And tomorrow we'll go hunt some Muggles."

Bellatrix grinned. She kissed his skin again and said, "We'll need dinner before falling asleep."

"I could sleep for ten hours after… that." Voldemort japed, his lips curling up. Bellatrix hummed onto his skin and whispered,

"I'll go cook us something."

"Do you know how?" Voldemort's eyes opened, and one brow cocked up. Bellatrix gulped. She didn't know how to cook. Not really. He laughed, and she knew he'd been in her mind. She scowled and scolded him,

"You told me you were going to teach me Occlumency, Master."

"So I did."

She pushed herself up to sit, and he stroked at her arm with his knuckles. He met her eyes and suggested,

"A little practise at dinner, then?"

"You don't want my cooking, I take it," Bellatrix fretted. Voldemort smirked and said,

"I'll cook."

They finally pulled themselves out of bed, and Voldemort tossed Bellatrix a long tunic from his wardrobe. She pulled on her knickers and yanked his tunic over her head, marveling at wearing his clothes. She touched at herself, feeling _his_ fabric against her skin, and her stomach fluttered with a strange sensation. She cared for him beyond anything a servant did for a master, she thought. She adored him as a man, as the wizard he was, beyond her servile role.

Fifteen minutes later, Voldemort had cooked up pork chops with apples and onions, along with roasted potatoes. He placed Bellatrix's plate before her at the table, and she said softly,

"You're so good at everything."

"Pah. Cooking is a skill I acquired out of sheer necessity. Having absolutely no money means one has to get what food one can and cook it."

"Soon enough, you'll have loads of money," Bellatrix predicted. She picked up her fork. "Rickard Avery has loads of money; couldn't you ask him for some?"

"I don't want a loan. I want donations to my cause," Voldemort said a bit sharply. "I'll be patient and wait until my old lackies feel inclined to give me significant sums of money."

"Right," Bellatrix nodded. She cut into her pork and took a bite, savouring it. She hadn't eaten much at the party; she'd had a few Lavender Slip-Ups, but she had only eaten a few macarons and a bite of cheese. She hadn't realised how hungry she was until now. As she ate potato and pork, she thought back to Voldemort rubbing Burn Salve on her, of him undoing her braids. She thought of him holding her hand in front of Titus Malfoy.

"Bellatrix."

She looked up, and his eyes had softened considerably from before. He gulped and reached for his glass of water, and he told her,

"I meant what I suggested. Before the party."

She blinked. He'd suggested that she be his girlfriend… or something like that. He'd suggested that they be together, publicly and privately. And now he'd asked her to stay the night and promised that they'd go hunting Muggles in the morning. Bellatrix realised she wanted nothing more in all the world than to be _with_ him, and she nodded frantically.

"Yes, please, My Lord."

"Good. Then that's settled." He plopped a bite of pork chop into his mouth and chewed, looking down. After a few more minutes, both of them had mostly finished with their food, and he muttered, "Occlumency is simply the art of blocking out a Legilimens. I'm sure you know that much. The important act is emptying the mind of emotion. If a Legilimens latches onto an emotion, they can see clearly into all of your memories and thoughts. What you want is for a Legilimens to encounter blankness. Later, we'll work on replacing memories with forgeries to trick a skilled Legilimens. But, for now, I want you to shut your eyes and imagine the most empty place in the Universe."

Bellatrix obediently set down her knife and fork and shut her eyes. The Universe, he'd said. She imagined being on the surface of the Moon, devoid of air and facing away from the Earth. The heavens, filled with stars and galaxies, was cast before her eyes, but there was no sound at all. No wind. No water. It was blank and empty here.

"What are you imagining?" she heard Voldemort murmur, and she threw up an eyebrow, her eyes still shut.

"Can't you see, Master?"

"No."

She opened her eyes and smiled a little. "The Moon," she said. "The empty, lifeless, quiet Moon."

He nodded. "That was well done. I tried to see into your mind and found a velvet black curtain covering what I wanted to pluck out. Try it again."

Bellatrix blinked a few times and stared right at him, imagining the quiet, empty lunarscape. A shooting star whizzed by overhead, but there was still no howl of wind, no rush of water. It was desolate, and she was lost in her solitude.

Voldemort smirked and nodded. "That's very well done. You're making it very difficult for me to see anything. I'm a bit surprised you're able to achieve that at your first go. You really are a bright and skilled witch."

She grinned at his compliment, for she adored hearing praise from him. She said eagerly,

"Let's try again."

"You'll get tired, and I do not wish for you to fail," Voldemort said. "We'll try again tomorrow, after we've hunted down some Muggles."

"I'm looking forward to that, Master," Bellatrix said, "attacking some Muggles with you."

He let out a shaking sigh, picking up his water and sipping before he said quite seriously. "Perfect."

**Author's Note: Aren't these two just perfect for each other? Next up, some Muggle attacks! And Voldemort meeting with his old 'friends' at Cygnus' house! Woo hoo! Thank you so much for reading; please do review.**


	12. Chapter 12

"Bellatrix."

She blinked slowly. Her face was burrowed against Voldemort's chest, and her hair was falling all over him. She pushed herself up and gazed down into Voldemort's eyes, and he smirked at her.

"Merlin's beard. You're beautiful in the morning."

"Master," Bellatrix sighed. She dragged her fingers over his chest and whimpered. "Mmph."

She spent the next fifteen minutes riding him, for he was hard but insensitive in the early hours. She rotated her hips hard down and forward, up and back. She tipped her head and let her hair fall in wild, kinky ringlets around her shoulders and down her back. And Voldemort touched her all over, his hands squeezing at her breasts and fluttering up and down her ribcage. She came hard, and he followed soon thereafter, and then the two of them just lay on the bed in silence. Finally, Voldemort suggested,

"Showers? I'll go first."

Bellatrix held his fingers as he heaved himself off the bed and walked away from her. She was left alone in the bed and stared at the ceiling as she listened to the shower running. She thought back to Voldemort in St Mungo's. He'd been still and silent, and she'd attended to his bodily needs. She'd talked and talked to him, and he'd listened. They'd written letters. They'd danced at a wedding. They'd danced at a garden party. He'd asked her to be _with_ him, to be more than just a one-time date. She'd murdered for him. He'd begun to teach her Occlumency. He was her master.

And as she listened to him in the shower, she realised something.

She was falling in love with him. Not just blind infatuation - real love. She felt something very, very strong toward him. It went far beyond girlish obsession. This was something deep and real and true.

She sheathed her mind in velvety darkness, the sky on the Moon, in case Voldemort was 'listening in' with Legilimency. But the shower stopped, and he came walking out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, and he said lightly,

"Your turn."

Bellatrix smiled weakly and pulled herself off the bed. She picked up her wand and used it to neaten the blankets and sheets. She took a quick shower, washing her hair and scrubbing off with soap as expeditiously as she could. She wrapped a black towel around her torso and came walking out into the little bedroom, noticing that Voldemort had already dressed in what appeared to be a Muggle suit.

"I suppose I'll just put my party dress back on," Bellatrix said softly, and she picked up her wand from the bedside table. She aimed it at her rumpled dress on the ground and Scoured all of her clothes, from her knickers to her flat shoes. She pulled on her underwear and bra, dragged her cream flouncy dress over her head, and tied the sash at the back. She slid on her flat shoes and mumbled,

"I confess I am quite looking forward to this."

"To killing with me," Voldemort affirmed, and Bellatrix stared at him. Suddenly she had another wild, fleeting thought. She was in love with him. She shut her eyes and thought about the barren surface of the Moon, filling her mind with empty blankness.

"You're hiding something from me," Voldemort said softly. Bellatrix opened her eyes and whispered,

"I can't."

He narrowed his eyes at her and commanded, "Stop hiding."

Bellatrix let down her guards and finally sighed, thinking that she was in love with him. She thought about planting Flobberworms at his house. She thought about kissing him here in this house, of murdering the Tonkses and his enthusiastic reaction to that. She thought of him destroying the bus, of dancing with him. She thought of him, tipsy and defensive, talking sternly to Aster Greengrass Malfoy. She thought of sex with him, every blessed time it had happened. She thought of touching him, of him eating dinner at her parents' house and discussing his plans for wizarding Britain. She thought of all of it, and then she thought that she loved him.

She studied his dark, glittering eyes and waited. What would he say? Would he send her away?

"That pleases me," he said finally, in a quiet, steady voice. He nodded. "It pleases me that you feel that way."

"It does?" Bellatrix was breathless. She would never, ever expect him to love her back, but she was overjoyed that he actually approved of her emotions. She tried to take a breath, but it hitched in her throat and she started to cry instead. She whimpered rather helplessly, "How could I feel any other way towards you?"

He smirked and nodded. "Good girl, Bellatrix. You're such a good girl. Now. Let's go hunt some Muggles."

* * *

They came to on the side of a row of houses in Tonsby, a little village in the Midlands. Voldemort adjusted his grip on his wand and peered around as he said to Bellatrix,

"Right. Time to Transfigure our features. I'll do yours, if you'd like."

"Of course, My Lord." Bellatrix thought she had done a fine job of Transfiguring herself when she'd bought him a Flobberworm in Diagon Alley, but she just stood there and let him work. He cast his wand down her front, around her eyes, touching her lips, murmuring spells as he went. Bellatrix wondered what she'd look like when he'd finished. She could hear him lightening and straightening her hair, and when she pulled it aside to look at it, it was smooth and blonde. He was widening her nose, she heard, lightening her eyes. She felt a bit taller all of a sudden, and when she looked down to the ground, her suspicions were confirmed. He aimed his wand at her dress and incanted spells to make it black and to change the material to satin.

"Now you do me," Voldemort said, curling up half his mouth and surprising Bellatrix. She scoffed and pointed her trembling wand at him.

"Are you certain?" she asked.

"Do it now, before anyone comes," Voldemort demanded. Bellatrix nodded and began muttering Transfiguration spells. She made his eyes green, made his hair lighter and thicker and messier. She smoothed his face and pulled out the chipped part of his chin, which would have been a giveaway. She added some weight to him with an apologetic look, and she Conjured eyeglasses, which she handed him. He slid them on, staring at her through the clear lenses, and nodded.

"Now we are disguised," he said with a little smile, "and we can hunt. What do you feel like, this morning, Bella? An old woman doing her shopping? The driver of a car?"

"Two cars," Bellatrix breathed. "Let's crash some cars."

"All right," said Voldemort, sounding very amused. He strode around the side of the row houses, and Bellatrix followed him. He started to walk alongside the road, and he said quietly to Bellatrix, "The moment two cars are headed towards one another, make one swerve."

Bellatrix grinned and gleefully skipped up alongside Voldemort. She swished her wand a little, and sparks came out.

"You're entirely too excited about this," chided Voldemort, but he seemed awfully beguiled by her behaviour. He gave Bellatrix a warm look and paused, whispering,

"I made you pretty, but you're so much more beautiful with your dark curls and your dark eyes and your dark… your dark soul is still there, I suppose."

"I suppose so, Master," Bellatrix confirmed. She turned her attention to the road then, for one car was headed north and the other south. They were approaching one another, and Voldemort said,

"Wait… wait until they're close."

"Yes, My Lord." Bellatrix raised her wand. She was steady and sure now, not shaking the way she'd done when she'd adjusted Voldemort's features. She waited until the cars neared one another, and then she cried out, " _Derigo!"_

She yanked the southbound car hard to the right, and the tyres squealed loudly. There was a hiss, the smell of burning rubber as the driver slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. The cars careened into each other with a terrible smashing crunch. Smoke arose from the crumpled fronts of the cars at once, and the northbound car was shoved back and to the side by the impact. Glass shattered and landed all over the road in tiny shards. The creak of bending metal sounded in the quiet village morning, and then the door of the southbound car opened. A bloodied man crept out of the car, down onto the road where the glass had landed, and he called out to Voldemort and Bellatrix,

"I lost control somehow… can you… can you go phone…"

He trailed off then, and he collapsed onto the road. Bellatrix aimed her wand at the man and cried out,

" _Avada Kedavra!_ "

There was a violent flash of green light. The man's visible breathing ceased, and he lay in a lifeless slump halfway inside the car and halfway on the road. Bellatrix giggled.

Voldemort looked down to Bellatrix and raised his eyebrows.

"Well," he said, "that was fun. Let's go."

* * *

"Bellatrix," said Madam Carte, and Bellatrix set down her bottle of Draught of Peace. She'd dosed Mr Bummons with some more of the stuff; he'd been having crippling panic attacks after ingesting Wild Mind Poison on accident. Madam Carte gestured for Bellatrix to walk over to her. Madam Carte pulled them over to the window and said quietly,

"Your sister Andromeda has been admitted to the hospital. I thought you ought to know."

"My sister Andromeda?" Bellatrix blinked. "What's happened to her?"

"She's been Obliviated," Madam Carte said, "so thoroughly that not even members of the Obliviator Squad from the Ministry could restore her mind. They found her early this morning on the street of Diagon Alley, wandering and not knowing who she was. She doesn't know what magic is. She doesn't know her family. The Ministry's already worked on her; our Healers have tried… this must be terribly difficult to hear."

Bellatrix tried not to smile.

"Oh, this dreadful," she lied. "I can't believe she would have been… that someone would have attacked her like this."

"The Ministry searched her mind for any trace of the attack," Madam Carte said, "but they could find nothing. No clues as to who had done it. There's barely anything in her mind anymore, Bellatrix. She's been admitted to the Janus Thickey Ward. Your parents are there now. I think you should go; we'll cover your patients."

"Yes, Madam Carte. Thank you." Bellatrix bowed her head and tried hard to look sad. She blinked quickly a few times and tried hard to force tears to her eyes, but it didn't work. She just planted a deep frown upon her face and said, "I'll go now."

She went to the bank of lifts and hit the button for Janus Thickey. When she walked out onto the floor, she saw her parents standing before a bed. She walked over to them, and Cygnus Black III turned to see his eldest daughter approaching. She nodded, and Cygnus scowled. Druella turned to Bellatrix and hissed,

"He's gone too far this time, Bellatrix. Andromeda had many flaws, but she was still our daughter."

"Was? Is." Bellatrix scowled. Druella's eyes were swollen and puffy, as though she'd been crying for hours. Bellatrix shifted on her feet. "Who's gone too far?"

"Tom Riddle," Druella snarled. "We know he did this."

"How do you know?" Bellatrix demanded, and Cygnus said,

"It's the only explanation that makes sense, Bellatrix. He knew she was dating that Mudblood boy who disappeared. He knew she was a Blood Traitor."

"Can you prove it was him?" Bellatrix said, tipping up her chin. "Perhaps it was some friend of Ted Tonks. Or perhaps -"

"It had to have been Tom," said Cygnus. "He's crossed a line."

Bellatrix licked her lips and said, "I'll go talk to him."

"Yes, do." Druella looked to where Andromeda lay sedated in the bed. They'd probably suspended her so that they could keep searching her mind, Bellatrix thought. She looked peaceful, as though she was merely sleeping. Bellatrix's stomach actually clenched a little, and she blinked a few times.

"I'll go talk to him," she said again.

* * *

"Bella. I was wondering when you'd come," said Voldemort, holding the door aside and letting Bellatrix walk into the house at Bassett Gardens. "I heard what happened to your sister."

"You… you _heard?_ " Bellatrix stared up at him in disbelief. "It wasn't you, Master?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It wasn't me. I suspect it was Abraxas Malfoy, or his son Lucius. I had discussed with Abraxas that your sister was the girlfriend of the disappeared Mudblood Ted Tonks. This is probably an act conducted to try and impress me."

"Someone trying to get into your good graces," Bellatrix said numbly. She shut her eyes. "They say she'll never recover."

"Sorry; are you distressed about your traitor sister?" Voldemort snapped, and Bellatrix opened her eyes.

"N-No. Of course not, My Lord. I need to go see my parents. They're convinced it was you, and they've turned against you because of it."

"We'll go together," Voldemort said, raising his eyebrows. "I'll go to the Janus Thickey Ward myself to pay my respects to your parents. Let's go."

He took hold of the elbow of Bellatrix's Mediwitch uniform, and he Disapparated from the spot, coming to outside Purge and Dowse Department Store.

**Author's Note: Is he telling her the truth? Is someone trying to impress Voldemort, or did he do it himself? And the two of them really seem to enjoy hurting Muggles, huh?**

**Thanks as always for reading and please do review.**


	13. Chapter 13

"Druella. Cygnus." Lord Voldemort strode into the Janus Thickey Ward as if he owned the place. Bellatrix eyed the other patients in the ward - an older woman absentmindedly picking at her blanket, a young man lying on his back and staring at the ceiling - and then she stared at her sister Andromeda. She was awake, though she looked dazed and befuddled as she asked,

"Who's this gentleman?"

"She really remembers nothing?" Voldemort asked with a bite. Druella and Cygnus shot him dirty looks, and Cygnus shot at him,

"Did you do this, Tom?"

Voldemort blinked. He did not correct the name. He just shook his head and said quite firmly, "No, Cygnus; I did not Obliviate your daughter."

"The Healers say it was done so thoroughly that she'll never get her mind back," said Druella, breaking into fresh tears. "I swear, Tom Riddle, if you've done this to our daughter."

"I did _not_ Obliviate Andromeda," seethed Voldemort. "I have some idea of who did, but it wasn't me. Bella, I'll send you an owl when I know more. I'm going to Malfoy Manor."

"Malfoy Manor?" repeated Cygnus. "You think young Lucius did this?"

"Probably not; he's got the underage Trace on him," Voldemort surmised, "but it could have been Abraxas. Narcissa, I'm sure, shared with Lucius that…"

He trailed off then, and his eyes flashed strangely. Bellatrix frowned and asked, "What's wrong, My Lord?"

"I need to go to Malfoy Manor. Now. I'll send you an owl," he said, and he looked to Cygnus and Druella. "I really am very sorry for you. No matter who she was dating, it wasn't enough to wipe her mind. It is a tragedy, and I'm sorry for you."

He glanced at Bellatrix one final time, and then he nodded before Disapparating from the spot.

Once he'd gone, Druella leaned heavily onto Cygnus' shoulder and sobbed. Cygnus eyed Bellatrix and demanded,

"Do you know _anything?_ "

"I really and truly don't," Bellatrix insisted. She looked at Andromeda and asked, "Have you got any idea who I am?"

"You're a nurse!" said Andromeda warmly. "You care for sick people."

"Oh, Cygnus," cried Druella. Bellatrix pinched her lips and shook her head.

"I'm going home," she said, "to wait for news from the Dark Lord."

"The _Dark Lord._ " Cygnus looked surprised. "Is that what he is?"

"Yes," Bellatrix murmured. "It is."

She made her way to the bank of lifts and jammed on the button, determined to get home as quickly as possible.

* * *

_Dear Bella,_ said the owl that came two hours later, _It was Titus Malfoy. Come to my house. I've got a present for you._

Bellatrix's hands shook around the letter. Titus Malfoy had Obliviated her sister? Why? She blinked quickly and folded up the letter, tucking it into the apron of her Mediwitch uniform. She grabbed her wand and dashed out of her room, down the stairs to the foyer. She thought of calling out to her parents that Titus Malfoy had been the one to Obliviate Andromeda. But then she realised that she should wait until she knew more of Lord Voldemort's plans. She Disapparated from the foyer, deliberating hard on 21 Bassett Gardens in Isleworth.

She came to in the street outside his house, and she went running up to the front door. She knocked firmly on it, and a few moments later, it opened. Voldemort stood there in a white tunic whose sleeves had been rolled up; he'd stripped off his outer robe for some reason. Bellatrix scowled at him and asked,

"What's going on, Master?"

"Come inside. I've got something to show you."

Bellatrix followed him in, and he shut the door behind her. Then she gasped, for on the floor of the ugly sitting room was Titus Malfoy, lying in the foetal position and bound at the wrists and ankles by thin ropes. He was gagged with a cloth, but he let out a muffled cry when he saw Bellatrix.

"Abraxas Malfoy was not at all happy to discover that his son Titus had Obliviated a Pureblood. A member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The sister - blood traitor or not - of my fiercest ally. You see, Titus here forgot, or did not know, that I am a Legilimens. I saw the entire process of him Obliviating and abducting Andromeda in his mind. I saw him plant her in Diagon Alley, wandering and alone and confused. And I saw _why_ he did it."

"Why did he do it, Master?" Bellatrix asked numbly.

"Because he thought it would impress me." Voldemort sounded disgusted. "He knew I did not care for him, but his brother Lucius and his father Abraxas had told him that the right path forward was to get into my good graces. And so, idiot that he is, Titus here wiped the entire mind of a Pureblood. Fool."

"And what punishment shall he receive for this?" Bellatrix asked, adjusting her grip on her wand. Voldemort smirked down to Bellatrix and said,

"I think twenty seconds of the Cruciatus Curse ought to teach him. Don't you?"

Bellatrix grinned, even as Titus moaned in protest from the floor. Bellatrix reached up to stroke Voldemort's cheek and purred, "Fire away, Master."

"I'm not going to torture him," Voldemort said, and when Bellatrix raised her brows, he said, "You are."

"Oh," breathed Bellatrix. She aimed her wand at Titus Malfoy. You had to really _mean_ Unforgivables, she knew. She thought of finding out that Titus had been cheating on her with Aster Greengrass. She thought of the pain of that, of how distraught she'd been. And then she studied his pathetic figure, staring up at her with wide, pleading eyes from where he was tied on the ground, and she exclaimed gleefully,

" _Crucio!_ "

A crimson snare of light snaked around Titus like a bolt of ruby lightning. It crackled and snapped around him, a vicious web of light emanating from Bellatrix's wand. He writhed and screamed at once, and Voldemort aimed his own wand at the boy.

" _Silencio._ Can't have the Muggle neighbours suspecting that we're busy torturing someone over here. That's enough, Bella."

Bellatrix snapped her wand up and broke the spell. Titus rolled over onto his side and gagged, looking like he was going to be sick. Voldemort flicked his fingers at Titus, and all his bindings and the Silencing Spell dissolved. Voldemort approached Titus and bent down, pulling the gag from his mouth. Titus groaned, drool dripping from his mouth as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. He very slowly stood, on shaking legs, and he mumbled,

"I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry."

"You wanted into my good graces," said Voldemort stiffly. "Obliviating Andromeda Black was not the way to do that. I promised your father I would spare you a sentence in Azkaban by handling this myself. Now you'll go to the Blacks' house and explain everything - what you did to your daughter, and how I have punished you. If Cygnus kills you… well, that will be your problem."

Titus nodded, gulping. He looked to Bellatrix and asked quietly,

"Did it feel good to get your revenge?"

"D'you know, it did. It did feel good," Bellatrix confirmed. She raised her eyebrows and said, "Good luck at my parents' house, Titus."

Titus bowed, first to Voldemort and then to Bellatrix, and he started to walk to the foyer. Voldemort grabbed at the boy's arm, making him whirl around. Titus looked surprised, but Voldemort just hissed,

"If you don't go confess your crime to the Blacks, your punishment will be death. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Titus nodded, his eyes rimmed red. "I am so very sorry." He lurched forward a few steps, still unsteady, and he Disapparated with a loud _crack!_

"Can he fix Andromeda?" asked Bellatrix, but Voldemort shook his head and said, "No. The spells he used were deep and powerful. In fact, I'm surprised the fool had the capability to perform such magic. Andromeda's ruined. But I wasn't going to let him get off easy. Your father will take his own vengeance."

"Why didn't you just kill him?" Bellatrix pressed, and Voldemort shifted on his feet. He tipped his head.

"Titus Malfoy is a Pureblood, just like Andromeda. I need Abraxas and Lucius. I need Abraxas' friends. Executing Titus for his misdeed would not have helped my cause. You understand."

"I do," Bellatrix nodded. She sighed shakily and pulled off her matron's cap. "Oh, I am starved. I was near the end of my shift when they told me about Andromeda."

"Well, it's… it's dinnertime. Would you like some dinner?" asked Voldemort. Bellatrix smiled a little and nodded. He reached to slide his fingers through hers, and he led her out of the hideous sitting room and down the little corridor. Once they were in the kitchen, he got to work. He began baking breasts of chicken and cooking up asparagus and mashed potato. He poured two glasses of white wine, and he Banished it all to the table where Bellatrix sat waiting.

"Thank you, Master," Bellatrix said, digging in immediately. Voldemort stared at her, not eating, and after a few bites, Bellatrix set down her knife and fork and asked worriedly, "Something wrong, My Lord?"

"You are my first, best acolyte." He'd told her that before. She nodded eagerly, and he sighed. "I have an idea… something I invented on the Continent, but I haven't had the chance to… to use it."

"What is it, Master?" asked Bellatrix. He cleared his throat and asked,

"Are you familiar with Protean Charms?"

"Linking things. Yes, I know of them," Bellatrix confirmed. Voldemort narrowed his eyes.

"What about a modified Protean Charm that links magical tattoos, which allows a master to summon his servants at will?"

Bellatrix picked up her glass of wine. "Now _that_ ," she said softly, "I've not heard of."

"Would you accept one?" Voldemort asked. "If I tattooed you so that I could summon you, would you…?"

"Yes," Bellatrix whispered. "Anything for you, My Lord."

"You'd be the first one to have it," he told her. "It would be a prototype, a test. To see if it really works."

"Try it on me," Bellatrix said urgently. "I want your mark on me."

"Mark. Yes." Voldemort lowered his eyes. "The Dark Mark."

Bellatrix shivered. She unbuttoned the cuff of her left sleeve and yanked it back. She shoved forth her left arm and revealed the milky skin of her inner forearm. "Put it here, will you? So I can hide it at work?"

Voldemort nodded and smirked. "Perfect."

He rose and walked over to Bellatrix, and she drew herself to her feet. He blinked down at her and said,

"You're hungry. This can wait until after we eat."

"It mustn't wait," Bellatrix insisted, "Because you want it."

Voldemort took Bellatrix's left arm in his left hand and pressed the tip of his yew wand to her flesh. "Bellatrix," he purred, meeting her eyes, "Do you vow to serve me until the day you die?"

"I do swear it, Master," Bellatrix nodded, and she felt utterly breathless. Voldemort curled up his lips and licked his lips. He pressed his wand harder onto Bellatrix's skin and incanted in a low voice,

" _Morsmordre._ "

Bellatrix gasped at the sound of the spell, for it came out like a prayer. Her breath was rickety as she watched a black design form under her skin. A skull was traced, as if Bellatrix was being tattooed by an artist. Then a snake emerged from the mouth of the skull, creeping downward and twisting around. Bellatrix started to cry, overwhelmed with emotion at being marked by Lord Voldemort. Once the tattoo had finished inking itself, it faded to maroon, then to pink until it was barely visible. Bellatrix raised her eyes to Voldemort, who said smoothly,

"I'll be outside. Soon, so will you."

Bellatrix opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, but he walked straight out of the kitchen into the garden - the garden where Bellatrix had planted all the Flobberworms. She stared at her Dark Mark as Voldemort strode outside. She watched as he peeled back his own sleeve and pressed his wand to his own forearm. There was a long pause, and then he brought his wand freshly onto his skin. He appeared to be saying something. Then Bellatrix sucked in air hard, for she felt a stinging sensation on her forearm. The pain was bearable but certainly substantial. She looked down again to see that her Dark Mark had flushed from pink to black. She felt a powerful urge, like an instinct, drawing her to Voldemort. She needed to be with him, right now. She shut her eyes and felt a thud in her mind. _Garden, garden, garden. Come to the garden._ Bellatrix shoved down her sleeve and ran towards the door, flinging it open and sprinting out into the garden. She reached Voldemort in a few steps, and when she did, she felt immense relief.

"I needed to be near you," she said. She chuckled a bit and admitted, "I always feel like that, but this felt visceral."

"Perfect." Voldemort said. He took her face in his hands and bent to kiss her. "You are perfect, just like my magic. Let's go finish dinner."

**THE END**


End file.
